STOP MOTION
by Aggie Escott
Summary: The team investigate a series on seemingly unconnected murders in Colorado. Hotch centric. \Please leave a short review and tell me what you think.
1. Getting Acquainted

**STOP MOTION  
**Chapter 1  
Getting Acquainted

"_**Experience is the name every one gives to their mistakes." – Oscar Wilde**_

Aaron Hotchner was in the firing range. His firing arm had been compromised during the last case with Lomax, and he needed all the practice he could get. He drew the target towards him, and was not happy with what he saw. Nine out of ten were hitting the target with the accuracy that he called upon himself to attain. The one poor shot could be a civilian's life, or even the life of a team member. With a sigh he loaded up and started again.

He was here against the advice of his doctor, but the case required his full team and no one was expendable.

Absently he rubbed his right upper arm. He was no longer required to have it in a sling, but the metal plate was still there and he could feel the bolts and rivets through the skin. It was still painful, and the doctors had both said he should at least wait until the plates were removed before he came back to work.

The next series of shots was like the others; ninety percent acceptable – to him that is. Most agents would be delighted with the score, only Rossi wouldn't be happy with it.

He threw down his ear protectors and goggles and left the range. In the lift he met Reid, just arriving at work.

'Morning Hotch,' he said cheerfully. 'Wasn't expecting you back so soon – not that we don't need you, but...... well.....' He trailed off realising that the sentence he had started had no where to safely go.

'I've read all the case files, and thought I could be of use.' Hotch understated. As soon as he was in the bull pen he called a meeting in the conference room in ten minutes. He called Dave and Todd, who were both glad to see him.

But first he went to see Garcia. He hadn't seen her since she left hospital a week before he did, and was a little nervous. It was out of character to feel like this, but he had no idea how she would respond to him.

She knew he was in – Morgan had warned her – and she swung her chair round and smiled, equally as nervously, Hotch thought.

'Morning Sir.' she said. 'Good to have you back. We weren't expecting you so soon.'

Oh. It was "Sir" again.

'There's a.... um..... meeting in ten minutes about the case. Would you like to join us?'

'I'll be right there.' she smiled.

Damn! She was so unreadable. But he had made the same mistake with Emily, and now she was with someone else.

He sighed and went out to the conference room where his team were gathering.

'Todd, as soon as Garcia get's here, bring us up to speed please.'

When the team were settled, Todd began.

'Victims, six so far, seem unrelated. Four men and two women. No sexual assault, all killed outside their homes on their way to work in broad daylight. One man was terminally ill in a wheel chair, shot when he was picked up for day care; The other three men died in their front yards, the women on the steps of their apartment buildings. Single gunshot to the upper chest, in four cases in the heart and death was instantaneous, the other two died on their way to hospital. All shot from the same gun, no connection yet.'

Garcia,' Hotch said, 'get a list of the victims and see what you can find.' He turned back to Todd who was handing out printed sheets. 'Locations?'

'Across three states. That's why they weren't connected for so long.'

'From the geographic profile, it seems that they are not random. These victims have been picked for some reason.' Reid said.

'So', continued Morgan, 'as soon as we have the reason, we have the next victim.'

Hotch went to the evidence board where six faces stared accusingly down at him. Then he turned back to the team.

'Four of the six are in the same state, the other two in adjacent states. Fifteen minutes, Wheels up. We're going to Colorado.'

-0-0-0-

One of the victims was from Denver, where the team were now heading, and it was one of the two closest together, and was fairly central. Hotch thought they would probably end up back in Quantico, but they liked to show their faces, as it seemed to help the local police if they could get to know them as people and not names on a computer screen. The Denver police were at the airport to meet them.

Hotch introduced his team.

'SSA Rossi, Morgan, Prentiss, Todd, and Dr Reid. I'm SSA Aaron Hotchner. We would like to visit the crime scene right away please.'

'This SUV is at your disposal, Agent Hotchner. Our driver can take you there.'

'Thank you. Agent's Todd and Reid will go with you to set up; we'll meet back there in an hour.'

The team split up, and the driver took the four of them to the shady avenue where the shooting of Mr Albie Parker took place. It was in a leafy suburb of Denver, middle income wage earners, with two cars in most drives. Albie Parker's house was a corner plot with two dogs in the garden. Rossi went in first, and the dogs took an instant liking to him. Hotch walked past and knocked the door.

A middle aged woman came to the door, and after Hotch showed her his ID, introduced herself as Rene Parker, Albie's widow.

'Would you like to come on?' She stepped aside to allow Hotch and Rossi to enter the neat tastefully furnished house. Morgan and Prentiss stayed outside to look around.

'It doesn't make sense to me, Sir. Albie only had weeks to live. I was getting used to the idea that I was going to lose him, but not on the doorstep, not like this.'

'We are very sorry for your loss, Mrs Parker.' Hotch said, his dark eyes full of true sympathy. 'May I ask some questions that might help to catch the person who did this to you.'

'I told the other policeman everything I know.'

'These might be different questions, Ma'am. For example, how long have you lived here?'

'Oh thirty years, just over.' she said. 'We moved here when we got married, and lived in an apartment in Denver. Then fifteen years ago we bought this house. We have lived in Denver all our married life. Albie wanted to live by the sea but I didn't want to move.' Mrs Parker started to cry. Hotch touched her arm.

'I know this is hard for you Mrs Parker....'

'Rene, please.' She dabbed her eyes with a tissue.

'Rene, can you tell us what work Albie did before he got sick?'

'He was a chartered surveyor. A good one too.' She seemed to cheer up remembering her husband in a different light. 'He loved his job.'

'Thank you. Rene.' Hotch said, standing up. He put his card on the table. 'If you want to tell us anything else, just call me, and I'll come and see you.'

Rene smiled at him. 'I'll do that. Thank you.'

-0-0-0-

They met up with Emily and Morgan outside, and Morgan pointed out the house opposite.

'The shot came from over there, in the garden.' he said. 'There's a clear shot to the front door. The shooter must have known Parker's habits. He rarely went out, except to day care once a week to give his wife a rest.'

How did he get away?' Dave asked.

'Motor bike. No description other than red.' Emily said. 'Seems people don't know their bikes like they know cars.'

'They've lived in Denver for thirty years.' Dave said. 'There are four victims in Denver. Maybe the others once lived here.' He pulled out his phone. 'I'll get Garcia on that.'

As they arrived back at the police HQ, Dave's cell rang. Garcia had some news.

'Angela Smith moved to Utah eleven years ago from Colorado.' Garcia said. 'Diana Stretton went to Nebraska in two thousand and six from, you guessed it, Colorado.'

They were all sitting around a table in the tiny room kindly donated by the Denver police. They were not getting welcome vibes off the cops, but then they were used to that. They had bigger cupboards in Quantico.

'So all our victims once lived in Colorado.' Hotch said. 'Reid, draw up a new geographic profile on the addresses they had in this state.'

'It seems we have a link, albeit a tenuous one.' Dave said. 'There has to be more though.'

'Todd and Prentiss, go and secure our hotel rooms and then come back here.' Hotch said 'Dave and Morgan, would you get in touch with the Nebraska and Utah police and find out what Angela Smith and Diana Stretton did for a living while they were in Colorado. There could be a link there. I'm going to have a chat with the Denver cops to find out where this hostility is coming from and try to assure them that we are all on the same side.'

His team dispersed, and Hotch was left on his own. He hated it when the police were hostile to their efforts; the media portrayal of the FBI didn't help. With a sigh, trying to look diplomatic, he left the tiny room and walked across to where the coffee machine was. A couple of cops were chatting there,ahe Hotch recognised them as the one's who answered Rene Parkers 911 call. The two cops fell silent as he approached.

'Aaron Hotchner.' he said extending his hand. He winced as a pain shot up his arm and across his shoulder.

'Terry and my partner Bern.' Terry said but he didn't shake Hotch's hand. Hotch let his arm drop awkwardly.

'We aren't here to ride roughshod over you and your work here.' he said. 'We are a resource. Please use us as such.'

'Well', Bern said, 'we're off now. We stop for a drink at the Eagle – the cop's bar – on the way home. It was us answered the call to the Parker's place. We could have a chat there. You wanna tag along?'

It was not what Hotch expected, but he agreed to go since it was only a hundred yards or so down the road. He followed Terry and Bern out of the building into the evening air. The air smelled clean and fresh after the cramped conditions in the 'cupboard' and Hotch enjoyed the walk. The cops didn't have anything useful to tell him though, and two hours and four tonic and lemons later, he bid them good night and began the short walk back to the police HQ.

The walk took him across a bridge that passed over a brook, and Hotch stopped for a moment to watch the water. He immediately thought of Jack, and how he'd be down the bank and in the mud before he could stop him. He smiled, remembering the last time he took Jack out to the zoo and it was as much as he could do to keep him out of the penguin pool. He laughed out loud at the memory.

It was a bitter sweet memory though. There weren't enough of those times any more. He made a promise to do something mucky with Jack next time. Let him get really dirty, and then have the pleasure of cuddling him dry after the bath at the end of the day. Perfect.

He turned away from the water and noticed two men standing watching him on the side walk in front of him. He hesitated for a moment, and decided that discretion being the better part of valour, he should cross over and pass them on the opposite side of the road. As he crossed, and the two men crossed also, he realised that he wasn't going to be able to avoid them after all. He had his hand ready to draw when something stuck in his back.

' I am an FBI agent.' he said, hoping that this would prevent a mugging.

'We know who you are.' the voice behind him said, and a hand snaked round and took his gun.

Then they were on him. Two men behind him grabbed his arms, and the ones in front took turns in punching his face. Blood sprayed in a red arc from split lips as his head was jarred one way and then the other. A punch to the stomach and a kick in the groin and he felt his world darken. The men behind him let go and he fell to his knees. He put his hands on the ground in front of him. One of them kicked his right arm and he fell to his side with a groan, clutching his arm.

He felt hands rifle his pockets, but he was too dazed to do anything. They took everything, including his second gun, and as they were about to leave, one of them leaned down to him.

'Stop this investigation.' he hissed. 'That was just a taste of what you will get if you don't'

Hotch heard the footsteps recede as they ran off. His right ear screamed at him as he tried to get up, but he couldn't do it, and he collapsed in the road and bled onto the tarmac.


	2. Evidence

**A/N – apologies for the long delay in updating. Moving home has totally traumatised me. Don't ever do it!**

**STOP MOTION  
**Chapter 2  
Evidence

"_**It is a very sad thing that nowadays there is so little useless information." - **__**Oscar Wilde**_

It was Todd who noticed first, although she wasn't driving.

'There's something in the road ahead.'

Some one.' corrected Prentiss. 'Looks like a hit and run.' She stopped the car at an angle across the road. 'Oh my god, it's Hotch!'

He was lying on his back, eyes closed, and very still.

'He's passed out.' Jordan said, checking his vital signs. 'Call 911!'

Hotch groaned in pain. 'I'm ok.' he managed to say. 'Just help me into the car and get me back to the police HQ.'

'What happened? Were you hit by a car? Did you get the registration?'

'It wasn't a hit and run.' Hotch replied. 'It was a warning. We've been warned off the case.'

Painfully, his abdomen still aching from the groin kick, he staggered to the car with Emily's help. He sat in silence on the way back to HQ. Jordan sat in the back with Hotch in the front by Emily. She cast sidelong glances at Hotch which were not lost on him.

'I am ok, you know, just a little battered.'

Emily smiled at her chief's resilience, but still she asked, 'Are you not sure you'd rather go back to the hotel?'

'This case has suddenly got more important.' he said carefully through broken lips. 'Get a sketch artist in. I got a good look at two of them, and then call the team together; we need to work out a profile.'

Todd rang the rest of the team and told them what had happened to Hotch. When they arrived back they were waiting for them. Hotch went to the men's room and cleaned up and changed his blood spattered tie and shirt with the ones in his go-bag, which fortunately wasn't at the hotel. He carefully washed his bruised face and dabbed at his mouth. He had a couple of loose teeth but his teeth were getting used to that now. He brushed through his hair with his fingers and touched his ear. The high pitched whine that the doctor said was tinnitus was fading now, but he had a feeling that he was going to be plagued with that for a good while yet.

Which made him think of Kate. He was certain something could have happened there, and he wished not for the first time that he hadn't wasted all those years fighting for a dying marriage when there was someone who could really love him, and understand him. His eyes filled with water at the memory of seeing her again, and he washed his face again and hoped that the team would put it down to the beating he'd just had.

He dabbed his face dry on the roller towel, and headed to the closet, as it had been dubbed.

There was no connection as far as the victim's work was concerned. Diana was a single parent who cleaned houses, and Angela was a disabled housewife. The other three victims worked as a technician, an interior designer and a school teacher.

'No way we can connect them.' Rossi said.

'The only thing we have is everyone lived in Colorado eleven years ago.' Hotch said. 'Reid, what does the geographic profile look like now?'

'Well I don't think we are going to get much from this. There is no escalation, no sexual motive. It looks even more as if the victims are picked for a reason. The UnSub could be anywhere.'

'I was none too gently warned of the case this evening by four attackers.' said Hotch. 'This is something big if the UnSub or UnSubs can hire a hit team. So what do we know?'

'Not a huge amount. They all lived in Colorado eleven years ago, so what ever is the cause for these killings; it was probably something that happened over eleven years ago. Eleven years ago our youngest victim would have been thirty five. There are no children.'

'Could they have witnessed something? Belonged to a club or something?' Todd asked.

Rossi had his phone out. 'I'll give Garcia a call.' he said.

'I'll do that.' Hotch self consciously leafed through the papers in front of him. 'Did the local police get anything interesting from the families?'

'Nothing.' Morgan said. 'They all emphasised that the victims were good people who had never been in trouble with the police. That could be relevant.''

'I'll have Garcia check up on that too.' Hotch said. 'Ok, everyone sleep on it. We'll meet back here at six thirty, and stay together, and watch your backs. We'll call a press conference tomorrow to show that we have no intention of backing off the case. Thank you. Now where's the sketch artist?'

-0-0-0-

The press call was set for ten the next morning. Hotch made the statement and Todd fielded the questions. There were some surprised faces in the crowd when Hotch mentioned that they were looking for a serial killer. The questions were the usual ones like, how many victims had there been, and what connects them, and one particularly hostile journalist wanted to know why the cops had been sitting around on their arses while six people had been slaughtered. One astute young woman asked Hotch about his bruised and battered face, and was it connected to the case. Hotch stepped up to the microphone.

'Yesterday', he said, 'I was warned off the case by four hired thugs, but let it be known, the police do not take kindly to threats, and there will be no stepping down until this killer is behind bars.'

Hotch was pleased that most of the press photos were of him and not Jordan, and he smiled inwardly as the journalists wrote down his quote. Good – divert the attention away from the next victim.

As they walked away from the gathering, Hotch's cell rang.

Garcia.

'Some information for you, Hotch......'

_Hotch!_

'.....Well more like non information. None of the victims have the tiniest police record, they are all squeeky clean, and that includes any records that are sealed. Sorry Sweetie.'

Sweetie? Hotch smiled.

'The period we are especially interested was before eleven years ago. Try going back eleven to twenty years. They all lived in the same state; they may have all been in a club, owned the same car, anything at all that connects them.'

'I'm on it.'

'And Garcia?'

'Yes Hotch?'

'Don't call me Sweetie!'

He heard her laugh as she cut the connection.

-0-0-0-

They spent the day re interviewing potential witnesses. Not that there were many. It was amazing how people became blind when anything happened around them that they could be an important witnesses to.

Hotch went with Reid back to see Rene Parker. He introduced Reid to Mrs Parker.

She seemed genuinely pleased to see them. She made them tea.

'It's nice to see you, Agent Hotchner, Dr. Reid, but there really is nothing more I can tell you.'

'I really want to ask you if there was any change in Mr Parker's behaviour in the weeks before he died.' Hotch said.

'Well, he was very tense, and snappy which was totally out of character. But I put that down to his illness.'

'What about other things out of the ordinary?' Reid asked, ''Phone calls, someone hanging around, strange cars in the area, things like that.'

'There was a phone call. Albie took the call and said it was the wrong number. But he seemed nervous. There was something else, now I think about it. I didn't think of it until now. Albie said that he thought someone was watching him from over the road.'

'From the garden where the shooter hid?' Reid said, suddenly becoming animated.

Rene Parker nodded. 'I'm sorry, I didn't mention it before.'

'That's ok, Mrs Parker.' Hotch said, sipping his tea. 'How long before the shooting did these things happen?'

'The phone call was a week, the prowler a couple of days.' she said. 'Was some body watching him?'

'It seems possible that Albie's murder wasn't random, but a deliberate act. We are trying to narrow down a connection between him and some other gun shot victims.'

'Did Mr Parker describe the prowler at all?' Reid asked.

'No. Just that it was a man.'

Hotch stood up and extended his hand carefully. 'If you think of anything else, please call.' he said. 'You have my card.'

Rene showed them to the door and watched as they got into their SUV. Hotch was on his cell straight away.

'Dave, Mr Parker had a phone call that un nerved him a week before he was killed, and he thought he was being watched two days before.' Hotch said. 'Would you check out the other victims, and see if it happened to them?'

'Interesting.' Dave responded. 'I'll check that out.'

Reid drove them back to the police HQ.

'The watcher might not be the UnSub, but someone hired, like the four who beat you.'

'That seems likely.' Hotch said. 'If so it could be one of them.'

-0-0-0-

Both Angela and Diana had called the police complaining about a prowler. There was nothing on record from the other three men, but men are far less likely to report a prowler. They called the wife or girl friend of each to see if they had mentioned anything about a prowler of even a strange phone call.

Peter Brooks, the school teacher, had mentioned it to his wife.

'There was someone in the bushes by the house.' she said. 'I wanted to call the police, but he said it was probably just someone having a pee. Do you think it's connected then?'

'It's a possibility.' Dave said. 'Was this prowler hiding in the same place as the killer who shot your husband?'

'Well yes, actually.' she said, surprised. 'Was it the same guy?'

'We can't say for certain.' he said. 'It's just a lead we are following up on. Thank you, Mrs Brooks.'

He put the phone down. 'Well, out of the six, we have four reports of a watcher in the days before the shootings.' he said.

'And they all hid in the same place that the victims were shot from.' Reid said.

'These killings were carefully planned and executed. Nothing has been left to chance.'

'So what is the connection? Are the killings over, or is there another victim out there?' Emily said.

'Let us go back to the hotel and have a few hours sleep.' Hotch said. 'Have four hours, and we'll update the profile when we are all fresh.'

They walked back to the hotel in a group. When they arrived, they were about to go to their rooms when the receptionist called them over.

'Agent Hotchner?' she said. 'A gentleman was looking for you. He left you this note.'

Hotch took gloves from his pocket, and took the note from her hands. He asked Reid for copies of the sketches that had been made of two of his attackers.

'Were either of these two men the man who left the note?' he asked.

The woman looked carefully at the drawings,

'Possibly that one there.' she said. 'It's hard to say.'

Hotch thanked her and they waited for the lift to take them to their rooms. They were eager to see what the UnSub had written to Hotch. When they were at Hotch and Dave's door, Hotch invited them in to find out.

With care, in case there was any DNA or other evidence on the envelope, Hotch slipped the note out and dropped the envelope into an evidence bag that Morgan held out for him. He unfolded the note and read it out loud.

'"_We asked you nicely, Hotchner, to back off from your investigation. It appears that you have ignored our kind request, so now you will suffer the consequences."_ Written by an educated person.' Hotch said, scanning the lines again.

He put the note, unfolded into another bag and passed it to Reid to take a look at.

'Printed on a normal ink jet printer.' he said. 'Nothing stands out, except as you say, written by an educated man.'

Rossi's phone rang while Reid read the note out again. He stepped back from the group and took the call. Seconds later, he rejoined the team.

'There has been another shooting.' he said.


	3. In The Night

**A/N – Thank you all my kind reviewers who wished me luck in the move. I am now in my new flat with lots of boxes!**

**STOP MOTION  
**Chapter 3  
In The Night

"_**Night has brought to those who sleep, only dreams they can not keep." - Enya**_

The seventh shooting was in Austin, Texas. The victim was a woman in her seventies who lived alone and rarely left her home. She was shot in the head when she answered the door to her killer.

This was different, and if it hadn't been that the same gun was used, no connection would have been made. Unfortunately it had taken three days for ballistics to make the connection, so the crime scene wasn't fresh.

Dave called Garcia.

'Dorothy Chambers lived in Colorado until three years ago, when she moved to Texas to be with her family.' she said in reply to Rossi's question. 'Again, totally clean slate police record wise. Her next of kin is her daughter.' Garcia gave Rossi the details and Rossi cut the connection.

'I still think four hours sleep is called for. The crime scene is old now.' Hotch said. 'Dave, call the daughter in the morning and ask her if Mrs Chambers had seen a prowler in the days before she died. If she had, she's sure to have mentioned it to her daughter. Otherwise, back down in the lobby at', he checked his watch, 'six o'clock.'

The rest of the team left the room leaving Dave and Hotch alone. Hotch had a quick shower and put on pyjamas while Dave split a Whisky miniature from the mini bar into two glasses. Hotch was grateful for the drink, although he didn't need any help in getting to sleep.

He was woken by someone pressing a gun hard into his face, dragging him out of bed at gun point. He managed a glance across at Dave who was sleeping, with an UnSub holding a gun with a silencer at his temple.

'Keep quiet or your friend's brains will be decorating his pillow.' a voice from the dark said.

Hotch heard the gun cock, and he had no doubt that he would use it. So he silently obeyed the order to leave the room. The man pushed Hotch towards the door with the gun which he recognised as his own that had been stolen the day before.

Concerned for Dave's safety, Hotch stepped outside into the deserted corridor. Two men followed him out while the third remained holding the gun to Dave's head.

Hotch was told to stand still next to the lift and wait for their colleague who came jogging along the corridor. Suddenly, Hotch heard Dave's voice.

'Hey! Stop right there. FBI! Freeze.'

In one smooth motion, the third man turned, raised his gun. There was a soft "pop" as he fired, and a thud as Dave fell. Hotch tried to turn back to see what had happened, and received a punch in the kidneys. The lift door opened, and he was shoved inside. Hotch staggered to the opposite side of the lift car with a soft moan.

'Pity your friend didn't mind his own business, Mr Federal Agent.' one of the men said, whom Hotch now recognised as one of the men who had beaten him before. He was pushed face to the corner of the lift, which passed the lobby, and went down to the basement.

All Hotch could think about was Dave. Was he dead? Did he need help? Was he bleeding out and dying right now? Hotch felt sick with worry, and prayed that he would be found soon, or have the strength the get help for himself.

He was pushed along through the underground car park to a van parked near the entrance. One of the men opened the back doors and ordered Hotch to get in. As he climbed into the van, he was pistol whipped on the back of his head, and he fell forward semi conscious on the floor of the vehicle. His dark eyes blurred as he hit the floor and strong hands dragged him into the back of the van. He groaned as he felt blood on his face, and he tried desperately to remain awake. He had no opportunity to fight. Again, like before, there were four men, except now they were armed. He curled up on the floor in an attempt to protect himself, and one of the men kicked him in the back. He twisted his body sideways trying to absorb the impact and lost consciousness as he was kicked a second time.

His last thoughts as he passed out were of Dave.

-0-0-0-

Dave had seen the gun rise to meet his in slow motion. The almost silent discharge took him by surprise, and the result was a through and through in his abdomen. He crashed backwards, hitting his head on the wall as he fell.

For a while he lay still, breathing short breaths, trying to control the pain enough to be able to get help. He rolled onto his front, and pressed his hand onto the wound to the right of his navel. Dark blood seeped between his fingers as he pushed himself onto his knees, and, by leaning on the wall, managed to get onto his feet and stagger to Reid and Morgan's room.

He fell onto his knees at the door, and knocked as hard as his lessening strength would allow.

-0-0-0-

Reid was having a dream, and it was not one he wanted to remember. There was something chasing him, but it was always just out of view. He could hear it breathing and scraping behind him, but when ever he turned to look for it, it was always just out of view. It started to move more quickly, and Reid could feel the sweat on his body as he tried to outrun the monster. It started to knock on the walls, and the banging seemed to surround him and close in on him, He whimpered in his sleep as the sound drew closer and closer and seemed to wrap itself around him. As it tightened, he opened his eyes with a small yelp, and found himself tangled in his sheet. But the knocking didn't stop.

Suddenly he realised that the knocking was someone at the door. He glanced at his watch which he was wearing over his pyjama sleeve, and it told him it was only four o'clock.

Had something happened with the case?

He got out of bed with some difficulty and padded to the door. He opened it, expecting Hotch, and Dave collapsed onto the floor in front of him.

'Morgan! Morgan wake up!' Reid shouted as he turned Rossi onto his back and pressed down onto the wound. Dave's Soft eyes looked at Reid as he fought to tell him what had happened, but he no longer had the strength to speak, and before Morgan had called 911, Dave had fainted.

'Reid, Hold on here, I'll go and Find Hotch. This could be connected with the case.'

Leaving Reid trying to stop the bleeding, Morgan sprinted to Dave and Hotch's room. He was surprised to find the door ajar, and he pushed it carefully with his finger tips. It was, as he expected, empty. Hotch's shoes were by the bed, and his suit hanging up. Where ever he was, he was in his pyjamas. His bed was in disarray. Was it possible he had been abducted from under their noses from the hotel room? He left the room and closed it behind him. If that was so, then the room was a crime scene, and the CSI's needed to come and process it.

He saw the blood on the carpet on the way back where Dave had taken the bullet. Said bullet was embedded in the wall. Morgan used his cell to call Emily and Jordan.

'Hotch has been abducted. We need to get back to work.'

He heard the ambulance pull up outside the hotel, and seconds later, paramedics were running through the corridor, followed by the hotel night staff. As soon as the paramedics had taken over care for Rossi, Reid joined Morgan, blood over the front of his clothes and on his hands.

'What happened?' Reid asked. 'Where's Hotch?'

'It seems', Morgan said, 'that Hotch has been abducted from his bed, and Dave was shot trying to prevent it.'

Reid produced a roll of crime scene tape that he had in his bag, and secured the corridor from the scene of the shooting to Dave and Hotch's room. Morgan explained to the staff that the people in the intervening rooms would need to be woken up and re-allocated rooms in another part of the hotel. One by one the rooms were vacated by sleepy and bewildered occupants. Morgan explained to them not to touch anything, and asked them if they would kindly volunteer their finger prints for elimination purposes.

Once all the rooms were empty, Morgan closed off the corridor and called the CSI's.

-0-0-0-

Hotch woke up with a headache and a terrible pain in his back from being kicked twice in the same place. He was secured in a standing position by metal straps around his upper arms attached to the ceiling with chains. His right arm was hurting, and he tried to adjust his position so the weight was mainly taken by his left arm.

He looked down at himself and saw that although his jacket had been taken, he still had on his pyjama bottoms. His toes just touched the floor. He raised a foot and reached backwards with it to see if he was against a wall, but he wasn't. He seemed to be hanging in the middle of a small room.

He looked around. The room was windowless, and painted grey. There was one door that he could see and that too was grey. It was cold and the floor on his bare toes was icy. There was no furniture in the room, nothing apart from him and a single light bulb hanging a few feet in front of him. There was a red switch on the wall by the door and he wondered if it was a locking mechanism. But it seemed odd to have that on the inside of the room. He shivered with the cold, and he wiped blood from his eyes on his shoulder.

'Who are you? Show yourselves!' he shouted. His body swung on the straps as the effort of shouting made him wince in pain. He wondered if there was any damage to his kidneys, and he would have liked to check if there was a bruise.

'Show yourselves.' he shouted again. But his voice was weak and the pain stopped him from saying more.

It felt like hours later that the door opened. A man whom Hotch recognised stood in the doorway.

'You are disturbing our sleep, Hotchner. If you do that again, this will happen.'

The man briefly pressed the switch by the door, and Hotch knew then what it was for. The electric shock that passed down the chains and through his body made him arch his back and scream.

When the shock ended, Hotch was still conscious, but only just. His breathing was noisy and painful.

'If you disturb our sleep again, you'll get a longer dose. Now shut the hell up!'

_Oh god oh god oh god! _

Hotch's chest was hurting and his heart was beating hard and fast. He looked at his assailant, the pain visible in his eyes.

'Keeping me here will not change the course of the investigation. We do not negotiate with terrorists. Nothing will change.'

'You had better start praying that they do and it will, because you are dead otherwise.'

He hit the switch again and the electric current again passed through him. This time his scream was silent, his mouth open in agony, his feet left the floor and his back arched.

Just before he lost consciousness, he thought he saw the flash of a camera.


	4. Statements

**STOP MOTION  
**Chapter 4  
Statements

"_**A **__**photograph**__** can be an instant of life captured for eternity that will never cease looking back at you.**__**" - Brigitte Bardot **_

The team didn't get their four hours and were back at work. Morgan called Garcia who was asleep at her desk, and told her about Hotch.

He heard Garcia take a deep breath. 'What happened?'

'He was warned to stop the investigation, and called a press conference to say that the investigation was non negotiable.' Morgan said. 'Last night he was abducted from his hotel room. Rossi was shot and is in surgery. Let me know the minute you have anything, Baby Girl. It could save lives.'

He thought she was crying but he couldn't be sure.

As soon as the sun was up, Morgan called Dorothy Chambers' daughter Wendy.

Yes, she said, her Mum had been frightened by a prowler in the week before her death, but Wendy wasn't particularly alarmed by that, since her Mum was always afraid about something. She agreed to be interviewed, and Morgan sent Reid and Todd to visit Wendy, and check out the crime scene.

Garcia was busy checking out the records of unsolved shooting homicides in the last year where the victim was shot near their homes. She had found two possible, and called the team on Morgan's phone.

'What do you have for us, Doll?'

Garcia tried and failed to pull herself together. Morgan could here her voice shake as she told him what she had discovered.

'Two more possibly linked killings.' she said. 'I am just checking out the ballistics results, but both men were killed on their doorsteps in the last six months. I'm sending you details.'

She angrily wiped a tear away, just at the moment that Kevin entered her bunker. He waited until she put the phone down before he announced his presence.

'You like him, don't you?' he said. The tear was not lost on him.

'Of course I do. He's a nice guy, he's also my boss.'

'Do you love him?'

'Kevin, you green eyed monster! Don't talk daft.'

'Did something happen when you were in that Game?' he asked. 'You seem different since then, somehow?'

'Different how? I almost died. That changes a girl.'

Kevin took her in his arms. 'You're special, you know. I really care about you.'

She put her arms around him, and rested her head on his shoulder. 'Sorry, Kev. I'm just a little ........ confused at the moment. I'll get over it though.'

_At least, I hope I do....._

Garcia allowed Kevin to embrace her and tried to hug him back, but it felt to her to be half hearted, and she wondered if Kevin noticed. He didn't seem to, and when he kissed her, she kissed him back. But she was thinking of someone else.

-0-0-0-

Hotch couldn't tell how long he had been unconscious for. The windowless room was bathed in a yellow unhealthy light from the single bulb, the grey of the room adding to his anxiety. He had no way of telling whether it was day or night, and he supposed that this sensory deprivation would eventually affect his mind.

The sense of pain he could feel well enough. Under the shackles that were around his arms the skin was charred and seared, and trying to take the weight off his arms, his right especially, hurt his feet. He tried to pull his arms through so that undamaged skin was beneath the shackles, but they were too tight and digging into his flesh.

He tried to profile this UnSub. His mind wasn't working well, and he suspected his brain was being affected already. He had seen the UnSub's faces, so it was not likely that they intended to set him free. They thought that torturing him would stop the investigation, so they didn't know much about how the FBI worked. Even if the team did want to negotiate, the law said they couldn't. They were going to have to kill him, if he didn't die here first.

He shivered with the cold in the room, his pyjamas offering little protection. He thought about the photograph that he thought he saw them take. He decided he had to be extra vigilant not to show the pain he was in. If the team were to see him in pain, it would undermine them. He was going to have to be careful.

The photograph was on Morgan's desk, still in the envelope. He opened it absently as he watched Reid pin another two pictures of victims onto the board. There were now nine accusing faces looking down at them. How could they have so many victims, and still not be able to connect them. So far all they had was that they all lived in Colorado eleven years ago.

Had they all witnessed a crime? Garcia had checked that out, but a lot of the records were still on paper, and hadn't made to the computer system yet. They were going to have to physically go through all witness statements for all crimes in five precincts that didn't have the records computerised.

That just was not possible, although it was gradually becoming apparent that it was going to be necessary.

All witness statements for all crimes? Morgan thought that it had to be murder for the UnSubs to go to so much trouble.

All witness statements for all capital crimes in all five precincts eleven to eighteen years ago. Dorothy Chambers had moved to Colorado eighteen years ago, so there was no point in going further back.

Seven years of records in five separate areas. They needed to get started.

Hi attention was brought back to the envelope in his hand as he drew out the photograph.

_Oh my god!_

He called the team together for a meeting. They needed to get to work. And from the look of the picture in his hand, they needed to hurry.

-0-0-0-

'Do you want to drink?'

The man standing in front of Hotch had a bowl of water in one hand and a set of ankle shackles in the other. Hotch looked at the water. He really wanted a drink, but he hated to say yes to the man. But he would soon die of thirst if he didn't have some water.

'Yes.' he said. 'I would like a drink.'

The bowl was placed on the floor in front of him, and his ankles were restrained together. Slowly the chains were lengthened, and Hotch fell to his knees as his legs fought to take his weight after so long. The chains were lengthened enough for him to take a drink from the bowl like an animal. He felt humiliated and degraded, but he had to drink. He guessed he wouldn't have long and he was right. Suddenly he was hauled upright again, this time his feet didn't reach the ground. He cried out as the bands dug into his muscles of his upper arm, and he couldn't prevent a tear of agony from rolling down his cheek.

'Tomorrow we feed you.' the man said, and turned to leave.

'What do you want of me?' Hotch said to his retreating back. 'The FBI will not compromise, you know. It really won't make any difference what you do to me.'

'We'll have to see, won't we?' And for good measure, he lightly pressed the switch and sent a current through Hotch's body.

Hotch clenched his teeth together and bit deeply into his tongue. The blood spurted out of his mouth and he hung limply from the chains, trying to catch his breath. The blood trickled down his chin.

'Each time you speak when you are not asked to, you will be punished. so shut up.'

Hotch raised his head and looked at the man.

'May I ask a.....' His words were cut off by another shock and this time, Hotch fainted.

-0-0-0-

The team passed the photograph between them. It was now safely in an evidence bag to preserve finger prints. They all looked in horror and fury at the image of their stoic Unit Chief being tortured, knowing there was nothing they could do to stop it, other than find the UnSub. Emily put the picture face down on the table. She didn't want to see the Agony in Hotch's deep dark eyes. It was hard to imagine what he was going through.

Morgan began to go through his theory of the link being that the victims were all witnesses to a capital crime in Colorado eleven to eighteen years ago. As he came to the end, Dave Rossi came through the door. The team looked at him in surprise. He leaned heavily on a stick.

'I discharged myself.' he said to the unasked question that was on every body's lips. 'I thought we all ought to be working on this one.' He sat down with obvious relief at the table. 'They got Aaron, right?'

Emily pushed the photograph across the table to him.

'They are torturing him. They don't want to be found.'

'At least', Morgan added, 'not until they have finished the hits.'

'An old lady inn her seventies, a hit? It seems ludicrous.' Reid said. 'Do we get a precinct each to check?'

Morgan sat down, deferring to Dave, who said, 'I think that sounds good. Try and get them to fax across the witness statements for all capital crimes in the given time frame. Derek will give you your assignments.'

After each agent made their call, and calmed down the cop at the other end, they sat and waited for the fax machine to begin spewing out the statements.

The team spent the rest of the day checking the names on the statements, and got no where. There were still lots to look through, but Garcia had found nothing on the computer records.

It was as they were getting ready to go to the hotel for a short sleep that the envelope arrived for Morgan, by courier.

Another photograph. Morgan ran through to the reception to find out where the courier had come from, but he was long gone, and there was no record of where he had come from.

Morgan called Dave over, and tipped the photo straight onto an evidence bag.

'Aaron?' Dave asked, knowing the answer by the look on Derek's face.

Morgan nodded. 'They are humiliating him.' he said, handing Dave the picture. 'I don't think the team should see this. It won't encourage them.

David disagreed 'I think they should see it.' he said. 'They need to see the urgency.'

Morgan nodded and left the picture with Dave. He didn't agree, but until he had his own team, he would remain subordinate and support his team leader, whoever it was.

He hoped it would be Hotch again.

At the hotel, some of the rooms had been re-assigned. Dave and Hotch's old room was still a crime scene, and Dave could see the stain of his blood on the carpet as he unlocked the door to the room opposite Jordan and Emily's.

Their things had already been put in the new room. Dave would have preferred to have slept in Reid and Morgan's room, but he doubted that there would be another abduction yet. Not all the time Hotch was alive.

He sat on the bed and slipped the photograph out of his pocket. Morgan had a point. The picture could demoralise the team, seeing their strong controlled chief being humiliated like that.

Hotch was on his knees with his feet chained together, His arms were shackled and held behind him as he leaned forwards and was drinking out of a bowl on the floor. It was a deliberate attempt to depress them. He decided to hold off showing them the picture as yet.

He lay back on the bed without undressing, and folded his arms behind his head. The UnSubs didn't know he was out of the hospital, otherwise the photograph would have been addressed to him. Who ever it was was not watching them too closely at the moment. That could be used to their advantage. He thought about Hotch.

_We're going to find you, Aaron my friend..........._

-0-0-0-

Hotch was waking up again. He wondered how many shocks like that his body could take, and he thought, not too many. They didn't seem too bothered whether they killed him or not. He thought about his greatest friend David, and how he had been shot trying to prevent this from happening.

He didn't even know if Dave was dead or alive.

How were the team coping with Dave cut down? It was hard to run the team with two men short, and he hoped Morgan was up to it. He had an independent streak that he didn't seem to be able to get over, and that wasn't a good trait for a unit chief.

But he had a good team, and he would take advice on board.

They had taken a photograph when he was drinking. That would be a demoralising photograph for the team to see.

How were they doing? Had they found the link yet? Were they any nearer to catching the UnSub? Had there been any more victims?

Hotch's disjointed thoughts were interrupted by the door opening.

'Time for a wash.' the man grinned, and turned a hose onto Hotch's body. He gasped as the icy water hit him, and he twisted on the chains trying in vain to protect himself. He let out a soft cry as the water washed the blood from his face and neck, and the UnSub left him shivering violently.

'Tomorrow', he said, 'the real fun starts!'


	5. Connections

**STOP MOTION  
**Chapter 5  
Connections

"_**A hidden **__**connection**__** is stronger than an obvious one.**__**" - Heraclitus of Ephesus **_

When Hotch was left alone again, shivering and dripping wet, he let out long low moans of pain and anguish as his body protested at the latest torture. His legs didn't touch the floor, and all his weight was being taken by his arms. The blisters from the electrical burns were bursting now and he could feel the liquid on his skin. He reached up and held the chains tightly and pulled his body upwards, taking the weight from his upper arms, and for a minute, until his hands hurt too much, he had a little respite from the pain. But his right arm in particular was weak and he couldn't hold the position for long.

And he was so cold. He shivered and trembled alone in the eerie light, and tried not to think of the 'fun' that was to begin the next day. He was pretty certain he wouldn't find it to be fun.

His mind was running disjointed thoughts past him, and he guessed it was caused by a mixture of the extreme cold, the pain, and the sensory deprivation. He was at a loss as to how long he'd been chained up like this, He thought it had to be at least a day, he was feeling the lack of sleep now in addition to everything else that was playing on his mind. He wished he could pass out again – at least while he was unconscious, nothing hurt. Now the fingers of pain were running through to his shoulders and across his chest, and breathing was becoming more and more difficult.

He tried to concentrate his thoughts on good things – on his little boy........

_Jacky-Boy, please don't be angry with me for leaving you....... when I die it will be with honour and integrity........_

He began to talk out loud as if Jack was there with him. He told him how much he loved him, and how honour and integrity was so important.

'Please, my Son, be proud of Daddy....'

Tears for his little boy rolled down his cheeks and he rocked his head back and cried out to whatever gods were listening to take care of his child, and wrap him in the love that he would not be around to give.

'I love you, Jacky-Boy, I am so sorry to be leaving you......'

He must have passed out because a smack in the face wakened him. His head had been hanging forwards, and a hand in his hair had pulled his head up.

'I promised you fun.' the man said. 'It starts now.'

The punch to the bridge of his nose was to start off with. Hotch felt an explosion of blood under his nose and across his lips. Somebody was holding his head up to take the beating, and the punch to the cheek bone split his skin and more blood ran down his cheek and then to the other side of his face, and his head rocked to the side and his neck twisted and the excruciating pain knocked him out, but he wasn't allowed to miss a second of the beating and they woke him up again by holding ammonia under his nose. The burning alkali tore into his nose and throat and his eyes watered with a new pain.

His eyes were swollen and blackened and he thought he saw a flash of a camera. His head was dropped forwards, and he felt something whip across his back.

He was beyond crying out, the agony was total, and his mind had forgotten the sensation of having no pain. He hung and dripped blood from his face onto his chest, and it soaked into the waist band of his pyjama pants, and a gentle trickle from the split skin of his back.

'When your colleagues see this picture they will want to stop the investigation.' the man said 'We don't want to beat you to death, but that is their alternative.'

And a flash of the camera and they turned to go.

'They..... won't give..... up.' Hotch whispered through split and swollen lips.

The short burst of electricity and Hotch hung unconscious from the chains.

-0-0-0-

Todd and Reid returned the same day with little enough information. Mrs Chambers had been shot in her hall, not outside as all the others had, but this was probably because she rarely went out of her house. Wendy explained that her Mum was a virtual recluse, and even had her shopping delivered. Her Mum never answered the door, and thought that the only reason she would have opened it was because she thought it was her groceries being delivered.

'Tuesdays at one thirty the shop delivers. She was shot at one twenty. The delivery boy found her.'

'So the killer must have been watching for a few weeks to know that.' Reid said.

Wendy had tears in her eyes. 'Why would anyone shoot Mum? She never hurt anyone. She never did anything to upset people. She never even went out!'

Todd said, 'We think that the motive behind the shooting goes back to when she lived in Colorado over eleven years ago. Do you have any idea what that could be? Can you think of anything significant that happened around that time that someone could hold a grudge for?'

'Nothing comes to mind.' Wendy said. 'Mum always kept to herself.'

Reid gave her a card. 'If you think of anything that could be significant, please call me.'

As they drove back to the airport, Todd said, 'I can't believe we still have no connection. Is this normal? I mean I'm new to this. Is it usually this difficult to get a connection?

'Every case is different.' Reid said. 'But Garcia can usually come up with a connection quicker than this.'

-0-0-0-

Garcia looked in amazement at the information on her screen. She pressed a few keys and looked again.

There was no doubt, and for a brief second of euphoria, she realised that she had found the connection.

She grabbed her phone without taking her eyes off the screen, terrified it would disappear if she took her eyes off it.

'I've got it! I've found the connection. Jury duty! All the victims were jurors on the same capital trial sixteen years ago. Nineteen ninety two, Paul Bellway was convicted of murder and sentenced to twenty years. He was due for parole this year but he died of AIDS in prison before he could be paroled.'

It sounded to Morgan that Garcia had said all that in one breath. 'Easy, Doll Face!' he said. 'Do you have a list of the remaining jurors?'

'Two are already dead. One in an RTA three years after the trial, one of natural causes. There is one more potential victim. I'm sending you his details now.' She paused, then, 'Have you got any more news on Hotch?'

'We have two photographs now. They are beating him about some, but he's alive still, and he's survived worse. He'll be fine.' he lied.

'Get him back, Babes. We need him back.'

Morgan didn't say anything else as he cut off the call. He knew that his lie was transparent, and Garcia had seen straight through it. There was something going on there between Hotch and Garcia that started when they were both held by Lomax. Whether it would grow to a fully fledged romance, Morgan wasn't sure. But Garcia's fear for Hotch was real enough.

He went back to the team and announced, 'We have a connection!'

-0-0-0-

Hotch was brought round once more with a whiff of ammonia again. He jerked his head back from the bottle that was held by his broken and bleeding nose. He slowly turned to look his assailant in the eye.

The man was holding a length of wood which he whipped through the air onto his palm in front of Hotch.

'Time for the real beating. This time, we take a "before" and "after" picture. And he took a photo of Hotch hanging helplessly from the chains.

Then he started the beating. Across the shins and knees to start with. Hotch gasped in pain as his trousers tore and skin split. Blood ran down his legs and he tried to twist away from the assault.

It was useless trying to protect himself. The beating continued and blood flowed freely. Across the backs of his legs and his buttocks, and he couldn't help moaning in pain as again and again the wooden pale made contact with his skin, which split and bled under the assault.

'You are.... wasting your.... time.' he gasped. 'They.... will nev.... never stop...'

'They stop, or you die.' the man said.

'Then.... I die.' Hotch said, and with a soft sigh, he fainted.

-0-0-0-

Dave sent Reid and Todd to Steve Bill's house, him being the only remaining juror. Steve was surprised to have two FBI agents on his door step, but soon realised the danger he was in, and he and his family willingly co operated. His family Todd conducted to a safe house, while Steve remained at home in the hope of catching the killer.

Steve lived in a colonial style house at the edge of town in an up-market street with lots of trees and places to hide. They dressed him in Kevlar under his suit, and said to carry on as normal, a suggestion which made him laugh.

'Well, do your best.' Reid said. 'The dangerous time is when you leave the house. We know he will try to shoot you as you leave for work, we just don't know when. We want everything to carry on as normal, and not do anything to alert the UnSub to our presence.'

'I leave for work at seven thirty in the morning.' Steve said. Reid touched his arm.

'I know how difficult this is for you. We are watching all the time, and be assured that we will do everything in our power to protect you.

Steve looked far from happy. 'At least my family are safe. I'm going to have a shower and go to bed. Will you be staying? You can have the kids' beds.'

'Thank you for the offer', Reid said, 'but we will be sleeping down here. It is easier to protect you if we are alert. One of us will be awake at all times. Keep your curtains closed, and sleep well.'

-0-0-0-

When Hotch woke up he was alone again. His legs felt stiff and painful, and he wondered if his shins were broken. Without trying to put weight on his legs he couldn't tell how bad the damage was. He needed water again, but he hadn't been offered any. He could only imagine that they were not bothered with keeping him alive any more.

His ear was ringing from the beating around the head, and his head hurt. It was difficult to open his eyes now; they were swollen shut, and blood was caked onto his eyelashes, sticking them together. He couldn't breathe through his nose and he thought it was probably broken, and had to breathe through his mouth. Being alone was un nerving. He feared they would leave him there to die, only to be found years in the future when nothing left of him remained. There again, their presence only meant more torture and beatings.

Hotch hung his head forwards and thought about the team. Had they come up with the elusive connection yet? Would they find him before the UnSubs killed him?

He was thirsty and was desperate for water. The bowl was still on the floor in front of him, with a little water in the bottom. The water was pink now, contaminated with his sprayed blood. But still it hurt to look at it. He closed his eyes and tried to die.

-0-0-0-

Reid took the first watch. He left the house by the front door and, gun ready, he circumnavigated the house. He checked the bushes and out houses in the garden, but there was no one to be seen, and nothing to indicate that anyone had been there since the last check when they first arrived. He finished the check and continued around the house. Todd was sitting up on the couch with a quilt around her when he arrived back.

'No sign.' Reid said.

I'll sleep then, wake me up when it's my turn.' she said.

Reid sat on an easy chair and thought about Hotch – the man he loved and wanted yet could never have.

_Where are you, Hotch? Where are you?_


	6. Shooting

**STOP MOTION  
**Chapter 6  
A Shooting

"_**Don't wait for the Last Judgment. It happens every day." - Albert Camus, **__**The Fall**__**, 1956**_

Hotch hung from the chains, his head resting on his left shoulder. He didn't know how much more he could take. He concentrated on breathing. His mouth was dry and sticky and each breath was another stab of pain. It seemed a long time this time since they had been back. Had they been caught and killed? Was he ever going to be found?

The door opened and he came back in. Hotch forced his eyes open. He needed to speak and braced himself for the inevitable shock.

'If you are going to kill me, at least tell me why...' he whispered.

The man said nothing, but put a bowl on the floor in front of him. Silently he lowered the chains so that Hotch could reach the food. Hotch turned his face away.

'No... don't want...'

The man forced Hotch's face into the food and held the struggling man still as he coughed and gagged in the food. Then he pulled his head up by the hair. Hotch gagged and threw up into the bowl, his stomach already empty, the pain was too much and he fainted again. The food was taken away and Hotch was woken up again. He was left crouching on the floor on the loose chains. Tears of anger frustration and pain softened the dried blood on his dark lashes and flowed down his cheeks. He was now able to reach his face, and he wiped the food off his skin. He thought his legs were probably broken; he could see white through the wounds on his shins.

Painfully, helplessly, he dragged himself into the corner of the room and waited for his captor to return.

-0-0-0-

Reid watched from behind the curtain, and was sure he saw someone in the bushes of the house opposite.

'Jordan, wake up. I think we have someone.'

Jordan was awake and alert in an instant, ready with her gun. Silently, Reid pointed out where the UnSub was hiding – across the street in the front garden.

Reid and Todd left by the back door and crept around the house in opposite directions. Silently through the moonlit night the two agents rounded the building to take the UnSub from both sides.

Reid saw Todd through the undergrowth coming up to the side of the shooter.

'Freeze! FBI!' Reid shouted. The UnSub swung his gun round and took a shot at Reid. He felt the bullet hit him in the chest and he swung round under the impact and hit the ground. Todd repeated Reid's warning, and he responded by turning to face her. She dived for cover, letting off two shots as she fell. The UnSub hit the ground without a sound.

Todd ran to him and took his gun, but he had shot his last victim. She went to Reid, calling 'Man down' into her radio.

Reid was conscious, his hand over the entry wound in the centre of his chest. The Shooter had missed his heart, but there was a lot of blood.

'Hold on Reid, stay with me!' she said to him, cradling his head in her lap. In the distance she heard the ambulance.

-0-0-0-

Dave called Prentiss and Morgan back from the safe house with the Bill family. The shooter was dead, and they had no idea where Hotch was being held. Two more photographs had arrived showing Hotch before and after a particularly brutal beating, and Dave was afraid that the next session would kill him.

Bellway had died in prison, and someone was seeking revenge for his death. Garcia had come up with a list of prison associates who had since been freed, and he was following this up.

The shooter wasn't one of them.

Dave thought it likely that Bellway had paid the shooters a lot of money to seek revenge; there were several millions in unrecovered stolen money somewhere – plenty to recruit vengeance. The serials of the missing money had been circulated – if any turned up it would give them something.

Dave was feeling ill. The gunshot wound to his abdomen was bleeding again, and the only comfortable position he could find without it hurting too much was lying down. That was what he was doing now – lying down on a couch in the lounge, with his lap top, talking to Garcia.

'There are six parolees who have been released since Bellway was told he would die in prison. All six are keeping up their parole meetings, except one, Connie Burrows, who has missed his last two appointments.'

'What was his association with Bellway?' Dave asked.

'They shared a cell up until his release, twelve months ago. We have an address.'

She told him the address, and Dave cut the connection. Now they had something to go on, he felt a little more positive. Todd, Morgan and Prentiss were on their way back now; they could follow up Burrows address.

_Please, let us get this before they kill Aaron....._

-0-0-0-

Hotch curled up as best he could on the cold wet floor. Every now and again his body shook as a shiver passed through him as the room got colder. He imagined it was night time, as no one had been in to hurt him for a while now. He shivered again.

The bowl of water was still on the floor in the middle of the room. He crawled over to it and picked it up and held it to his lips. He wondered why it had been left there for him, and thought it could have been drugged. But he was so thirsty he needed to drink it. Slowly he tipped the bowl and drank down the sweet liquid. It felt good in his mouth, and wished that there was more. For those few seconds, it was the centre of Hotch's universe. Carefully he put the bowl down and crawled back to his place in the corner.

He had no feeling in his legs. There was a blood smear across the floor from the gashes and wounds inflicted by the wooden stake, and he sat and stretched his legs out in front of him.

The wounds were clean and the blood trickled slowly down the sides of his legs into a thick red pool on either side. He began to rub his legs but he could feel the bones grind together, and the pain was indescribable. He leaned back and stared up at the ceiling.

'Oh god that hurts!' he said out loud, tears streaming down his battered face. 'Please, somebody, find me!'

Three men entered the room as if they had been listening. Hotch knew them immediately. They had been the ones who attacked him in the street.

'One of your colleagues killed Sammy.' one of the men said. 'But not before he got a shot off. That's three of your little team out of action now. They'll never find you.'

Hotch looked up at them. Who had they shot? Morgan, Reid, Emily or Jordan? He was sickened. They were surely going to kill him now.

'We are going to beat you until you die.' one said. 'It could take weeks, or it could take hours. Depends on how strong you are feeling.'

They set upon him, one at a time. A kick to the jaw sent him sprawling on his back. Another kicked him in the ribs. Someone cranked at the chains and pulled him upright. One of them ran at Hotch with the wooden stake, Hotch used all his remaining strength to lift his legs and catch his neck between his ankles where the cuffs still held them together. He screamed with the pain, but he pulled against his attacker. One of the others hit the back of his head, and his fragile grip loosened and the man he had caught was freed. Hotch fell to his knees in a faint, his head forwards, his arms above his head. The man rubbing his neck kicked the semi unconscious man in the face and Hotch rocked back. Hovering on the edge of oblivion, Hotch felt a booted kick to the stomach. He vomited onto the floor in front of him. There was nothing in his stomach except the little water he had drunk, and the precious liquid hit the floor with the blood and bodily fluids that were already there. He coughed and gagged as he was kicked and punched on the body. He felt ribs break, and cried out in agony as his last ounces of strength were beaten out of him. When they had finished, one of them pulled his head up by his thick dark hair.

'This is for Sammy!' he said, and a kick under his chin cracked a bone, and he rocked backwards, hanging from the chains. His eyes closed, and blood ran from his mouth.

'They will find you.' he whispered. 'Whether you kill me or not, they will........'

An electric shock shut him up before he could finish.

-0-0-0-

Reid had lost consciousness in the ambulance. The shot had missed his heart, but it was close, and his blood pressure was low, and dropping. The 'medic thought that there could be an internal bleed, the vena cava could have been nicked, which would cause a long slow bleed out. As soon as he was at the hospital, it was straight to the OR where the team was waiting for him.

The surgeon opened his chest and held it open. Reid's chest cavity was awash with blood. As fast as they sucked out the blood, the cavity filled again. Dextran was used to keep his volume up, and his blood was salvaged and returned to circulation. At last the surgeon saw where the bleeding was coming from, sure enough, the vena cava. He quickly clamped it off and repaired the tear, at the same time recovering the bullet that had caused the damage.

'Close please, Nyland.' Geiger said, and tore off his mask and gloves on the way out of the OR.

Another success for Geiger the Magnificent.

Reid woke up thirty minutes later with a sore throat and chest pains in the recovery room. He couldn't remember what had happened at the Bill's house. He needed to call Dave and find out if they had found Hotch yet.

He thought of the photographs he had seen of the torture that Hotch was enduring. Reid was in deep love with Hotch, but knew that nothing could ever happen. Hotch knew about the love Reid had for him, and although he could never reciprocate the love, he felt honoured to receive it.

It had never been discussed between them. It was unspoken but recognised by most of the team. Reid thought that there was a spark between Hotch and Garcia, and it hurt him to see them together. On many occasions he had thought of leaving the BAU, once he had actually written a letter. But in the end he would rather be near the man he loved than never see him.

-0-0-0-

Hotch was thinking of Reid. He was sad that Reid was wasting his love on him, when he could never love him back in the way he wanted. On the edge of consciousness, he could hear the man's voice and his strong Nevada accent as he gave information that most people would have to look up every time. Thinking of Reid made him smile, despite the beatings and torture he had endured.

He moved slightly in his bonds. There was no comfort for him. The metal bands around his arms were digging into his muscle, and the burns beneath them were wet and infected. He thought of Garcia, and how she had stayed with him on that last case, even though she could have finished more quickly without him. There was a spark of interest there, and he would have liked to have had time to cultivate that interest.

But she was with Kevin.

Hotch's confused mind heard her laugh and he saw her face behind his closed eyelids.

'Penelope Garcia.' he said out loud. 'That is a beautiful name.'

And gently the anguish he was feeling disappeared as he drifted into nothingness.


	7. Broken

**A/N – sorry for the long delay with this chapter. I got the chance of a few days by the sea on the Isle of Wight, and there's no internet!**

**STOP MOTION  
**Chapter 7  
Broken

**_"_****_A warrior must only take care that his spirit is not broken_****_" ANON_**

'This face looks familiar.' Morgan said, looking at the photo of the dead UnSub. He had been identified by Garcia as Peter Samuels, but Morgan was looking at the picture with a new eye. He went to the evidence board and held the picture against the artist's drawings of the men that attacked Hotch.

'It's him!'

Samuels had been in and out of juvie and had spent some time inside with Bellway. Now they knew they were on the right track.

They had to check out Connie Burrows' address. Dave wasn't able to go. His injury was giving him a lot of pain today, and he felt he would be more on a hindrance than a help.

He took out his cell phone to call the hospital to ask after Reid, but as he was about to call, it rang.

It was Reid, asking after the investigation.

'Have you found Hotch yet?'

'We have a good lead. Prentiss, Todd and Morgan are following it up.' Dave said.

'I'll be coming out later.' Reid said.

'Stay where you are, Reid. I'm wishing that I did.' Dave sat down and leaned forwards to alleviate the pain in his abdomen. 'I'll let you know when we have found Hotch.'

Dave knew about Reid's feelings for the Unit Chief, and although he didn't understand it, he knew that Reid would be in a turmoil worrying about him.

'I'll call you as soon as we have anything.'

'I'm coming back.' Reid said and broke the connection before Dave could object. He pushed back the cover on his bed and swung his legs over onto the floor and pushed his feet into the hospital slippers. He called the nurse. He needed to sign a waiver and discharge himself.

-0-0-0-

Hotch was kneeling in the middle of his cell, head forward, eyes closed. The only sound was the constant drip drip of his blood falling into a growing pool in front of him. His hands were still, hanging loosely from the manacles on his biceps. He had no strength left anymore and he was exhausted, the constant beatings had left him shattered and broken.

Two men stood in front of him. One of them held a leather whip. He cracked the whip against the wall, then he cracked it across Hotch's back. Hotch's body jerked as the end of the whip cut a deep line across his back, but he made no sound. The second crack, and the thin end of the whip snaked around his neck. He lifted his head and looked into the eyes of his abuser.

The third crack cut into his cheek, and blood trickled down his neck

'Just finish this.' Hotch said.

'We are.' he grinned.

-0-0-0-

Prentiss, Morgan and Todd were at the end of the road where Burrows' last known address was.

'Todd,' Morgan said, 'you go to the back of the house.'

Todd nodded and left. Morgan and Prentiss walked along the street to the front of the house. It was early morning and the road was quiet and free of traffic. The houses were shabby but neat except for the one that they were standing in front of. They walked to the front door.

'FBI!' shouted Morgan.

There was no sound from inside the little house, as Morgan had expected. He kicked the door, and the lock splintered leaving the house open to them.

There were no people in the house, and room by room, the three agents searched for clues as to where Hotch was being held.

-0-0-0-

The three men had left Hotch alone at last. His body was a mass of rips and tears, and blood trickled across white skin and dripped onto the floor. He was conscious, and in pain. His legs were bent beneath him, and the slightest movement sent shocks of agony through his bones. He cried out as he shifted his weight off his right arm. His forearms hung forward uselessly and blood dripped from his fingertips.

His was to be a pointless death; a killing out of revenge. He listened to his little boy playing in front of him, and he longed to stretch out to hold him, nuzzle his face in his deep auburn hair, something he would never do again. The loss brought tears to his eyes, and he wept for his child whom he would never see again. He opened his bruised and swollen eyes and almost expected to see Jack sitting in front of him. Instead he saw the door open and a man standing silhouetted in the doorway.

'Please', he whispered, 'don't do this.'

The man stepped into the room and closed the door after him. He took Aaron by the hair and yanked back his head. The man kissed his lips savagely, pulling his hair and holding his head in position. Hotch fought with his meagre strength, but he was too weak. He knew that he had no defence against the rape that he was sure would follow. His helplessness and impotence brought new tears to his sore eyes, and the man drew away.

'You may as well let me, Hotchner. You might buy a few more hours of life.'

'I will not willingly submit to your perversions.' Hotch said softly. 'If you take what you want, I don't have the strength to prevent it. But is too high a price to pay for a few hours of life.'

The man stroked his hands down the side of Hotch's beaten chest, and came to rest on his hips. He leaned forwards to steal another kiss, but Hotch turned his head to the side. The man kissed Hotch's ear. Hotch shuddered with revulsion. He thought he was going to be sick. It hurt too much to fight the man, and he didn't want to pass out and be raped while he was unconscious.

'Please...... don't.'

The man laughed and pulled Hotch backwards, so that his legs were in front of him rather than beneath him. Hotch tried not to react to the agony from his broken legs, but he screamed faintly unable to prevent the sound from escaping his lips. His pyjama bottoms were ripped and blood stained, and Hotch readied himself to fight to the death.

The man pressed his face to Hotch's bleeding neck and bit him, drawing blood. Hotch trembled, knowing his life was about to finish.

He endured the touching stoically. The man was kneeling on the floor between Aaron's legs, his hands moving gently lower on Aaron's body.

'Please....' Hotch whispered.

The man knelt up so that his head was level with Hotch's.

This is what he wanted.

Quickly, he brought his elbows together behind the man's head and used the metal fetters against his ears. The man screamed loudly as the metal cut into his ears and Hotch refused to release him. He brought his hands up and forced Aaron's arms apart.

'You will pay for that, Hotchner!' he said, holding the sides of his head. Hotch saw blood run between his fingers with some satisfaction.

He would not submit!

The man walked behind him, and pulled his head back by his dirt and blood encrusted hair. He pressed his lips on Hotch's.

'I will have you.' he growled.

He pulled at Aaron's blood drenched trousers, and began to strip his own clothes. Hotch's head fell forwards, helpless, hopeless and without power.

Then the door opened.

'You bloody pervert!'

Aaron's help came from and unexpected quarter as another of his abusers stood in the doorway.

'What's it to you?' he asked. 'We're going to kill him anyway.'

'Not like this, now get off him!'

The two men faced each other off.

'You will not do this. This man is going to die, but he will die as a man. You will not violate him. If that's what you want there are plenty of places that you can get it.'

'And who made you his keeper, Burrows?' he spat back. 'You stand there giving orders; we do all the dirty work. Why should he die "as a man"? Sammie's dead! Did he get the same consideration?'

'Leave!' Burrows said in a low angry tone. 'Now!'

The man turned and left, his body shaking with pent up rage. As he passed Hotch, he kicked his leg. Hotch groaned as he felt displaced boned grind together.

Burrows turned to Hotch.

'You are having a bad affect on my men, Hotchner.' He savagely hit Hotch across the face with the back of his hand, his ring cutting into his skin.

'When I am dead', Hotch said quietly through broken lips, 'Remember to watch over your shoulder for the rest of your life, because sooner or later, my friends will find you.'

Another smack across the face, and Burrows turned and left the dying man hanging and blood soaked.

He swung slightly on the chains, he had no strength left to stop it. Each breath he breathed was accompanied by a small cry of pain. The position he had been in for the time he was in captivity was putting a strain on his chest, and he had to make himself breathe. It hurt, and he wanted to just give up and die, but his primeval instinct for survival prevented him, and again, he took a pain filled breath.

'I am sorry, My Jacky, for being a coward.' he said out loud to his little boy playing on the edge of the blood pool. 'I can't take much more of this now......'

-0-0-0-

A search of Connie Burrows home had produced some papers referring to Peter Samuels and two other men who they had not heard of before, Roy Edwards and Glen Lester. They called Garcia to check out the new names.

'Both ex-cons.' she said. 'Not known to Bellway, as far as I can see, but they were both known associates of Burrows as teens. Robbery with violence and attempted murder. They were released within a year of each other. I have last known addresses for both of them. Sending the info now, with photos.'

'Thank you.' Dave said.

'Any news of Hotch yet?'

Dave didn't say anything for a moment, then, 'No. But we are closing in.'

Morgan printed off the mug shots of the two men that Garcia had sent to them, He held them against the artists drawing of the second man that Aaron saw when he was attacked.

Lester.

So Lester and Samuels were two of the men who beat up Hotch, and possibly the other two were Burrows and Edwards.

How had they reacted to the death of Samuels? How much more danger had they put Hotch in?

Dave felt sick with worry. They had held Hotch for three days. Would they just kill him now?

-0-0-0-

Reid was having an argument with the doctor.

'I cannot allow you to leave. Your injury was very serious, Doctor Reid. You could bleed out slowly, and not know until your BP got so low that you pass out. I cannot allow you to leave.'

'But I'm needed!' Reid insisted.

Let us find a compromise, Dr Reid.' the doctor said, exasperated. 'Stay another day and we'll review your situation tomorrow. Your life is seriously at risk if you leave now.'

Reid sat on the bed, equally as exasperated. 'Ok, one more day. I need a phone please.'

-0-0-0-

David Rossi would have been pacing if he wasn't in so much pain. Instead he sat uncomfortably on the edge of his chair, with his hand on the wound covering. When his cell rang he guessed it would be Reid.

'I can't come back until tomorrow at the earliest.' he said crossly. 'Have you got any new leads? Have you found Hotch yet?'

Dave looked at the latest photograph to be delivered, this on by a teenager who had been offered fifty bucks to drop the envelope into the FBI main reception. It showed Hotch kneeling in blood and mess with his head forward, arms out to the side. He didn't look alive. Dave felt a tearing inside him as he looked at the picture of his friend.

'No we haven't, but we are getting closer.' he said. 'We have two more addresses to follow up on. Jordan, Emily and Derek are just leaving now to visit the homes of two more men whom we think could be the third and fourth men who attacked Hotch in the street.'

_And god help us, we have to be in time..........._


	8. New Leads

**STOP MOTION  
**Chapter 8  
New leads

"_**Mother's love is peace. It need not be acquired, it need not be deserved."**__** Erich Fromm**_

Lester lived with his mother in a trailer outside town on a rundown park. Mrs Lester was struggling on the bread line, and Jordan's heart went out to her. She imagined her fighting the system to bring up her son, only to be beaten by it, and watch her boy sink into crime. Mrs Lester started to cry when Todd asked where her son was.

'I haven't seen Glenny for three days now.' she sobbed. 'He promised he'd be a good boy this time, but he gave me some money before he went and said there was more to come.' She rubbed her eyes.

'Where is the money now, Mrs Lester?' Emily asked gently.

'I spent it on food and some shoes.' she said. 'I haven't had new shoes before.' she looked down into her lap. 'He's in trouble isn't he?'

'We don't know, Mrs Lester. We just need to talk to him. Do you have any idea where he is, or who his friends are?'

'A lad called Roy.' she answered. He's started bringing him here about three months after he got out.' She paused. 'I didn't like him much. Not good for my Glenny.'

'Why do you say that?'

'It was about that time that he started back on the drugs.' She burst into tears, and Emily took her hand. 'He hit me once, but only since Roy became part of his life. Prison did that to him. He was never violent before.'

Emily thought back to his rap sheet. 'We'll find him for you, Mrs Lester.' She squeezed her frail old hand and stood up. Todd gave her a card.

'If you think of anything you think might interest us, give me a call, please.'

-0-0-0-

Back in the car, Jordan was driving to Edward's house. Emily was wondering how love could be so blind as to completely forget the wickedness your child can do, and simply blame everything else except the child.

'Could you be like that Jordan?'

'I don't think so.' she replied without taking her eyes off the road. 'But I think that's our training.'

'Yeah. You're probably right.' Emily said as they pulled up outside the address they had for Roy Edwards.

-0-0-0-

As they walked up the driveway, a shot over their heads sent them diving for cover. They crawled through the garden back to the road, and Emily called for back up from the local police department and Todd called Morgan. Al the time, Emily was concerned that their quarry would escape through the back of the house.

Within a few minutes, reinforcements arrived, and Morgan's SUV pulled up next to theirs.

'I think this is it.' Emily said. 'I think they are holding Hotch here, or nearby.'

Morgan nodded, hoping it wasn't too late to save him. As the police took up positions around the house, and evacuated those on either side, Emily thought back to the photographs that had been sent to them. It brought tears to her eyes thinking of the humiliation her boss had been through, and she prayed that if he was still alive, that they hadn't broken him. She knew of his immense strength of will, and thought if anyone could survive it, then he could.

Morgan had a megaphone and was calling to the occupants of the house.

'You have no-where to go. Come out with your hands up and you will survive this. Shoot at us, and I can guarantee that you will die in there. The choice is yours. You have five minutes to decide, and we are coming in.'

Their answer was a shot through the front window of the house. They had forfeited their five minutes. Morgan and Prentiss crept towards the front door while Todd drew their fire to the cars. At the same time, cops closed in to the back with the idea of entering from behind. Emily flinched as she heard more shots being fired, but she couldn't tell if they were cops guns or if they came from inside the house.

Morgan kicked the door open and they entered the house, Emily low and Morgan standing behind her. Two men at the windows on either side swung their weapons from the window. Emily shot one before he could get off a shot. Morgan took out the other. They quickly removed their guns and pocketed them. Neither man was dead, but it would be a while before they could kill anyone else. Quickly Emily checked their faces and felt a stab of sadness that one was Glen Lester. He wouldn't be hitting his Mum again for a long time. The other man who was calling Morgan things that Emily wouldn't even know how to spell was Connie Burrows.

Morgan dragged Burrows next to Lester, cuffed them together. Emily threw her cuffs to him and Morgan cuffed them both to the newel posts before they ran up the stairs to clear the rooms up there. As they went they heard more shots from downstairs, and a door slam.

Upstairs was clear of UnSubs. They came back down again. There was only one missing now; Roy Edwards. They ran back down to where the cops were standing by a door to the basement.

'He's down there.'

'Ok, we'll take it from here. Do you have any casualties?'

'One cop shot in the arm, nothing serious.'

'Two guys – Conrad Burrows and Glen Lester by the back door. Shot but not fatally. Need to get the emergency services out for them and your guy.'

The cops dispersed, and Morgan, Todd and Prentiss prepared to go down and get Edwards. They needed to know where Hotch was, or he could be down there now.

Morgan opened the door and leaned back on the wall next to the opening. Swiftly he stepped through the door and swung his weapon to take in the basement. He was standing at the top of a flight of wooden stairs. There was a light on which lit up the small empty room. There was a tiny basement window, but Edwards couldn't have gone through that as the back of the house was still covered. Slowly he descended the stairs, alert to any movement or sound. The women followed him, weapons facing opposite directions. One by one they descended into the basement, but it soon became apparent that there was no one there.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, they looked at each other.

'Where the hell is he?'

That was when they heard the sound. It was of a fist against flesh and it came from behind a wall. Immediately the three agents went to the wall and searched for an opening mechanism. It was Jordan who found it.

-0-0-0-

'Make a sound and I kill you.' Edwards said. Hotch looked at him through his dark serene eyes. He was going to die anyway. Why be quiet now? What was happening?

He hadn't expected another visit. He thought he was being left to die alone. But he had heard gunfire and thought for an exhilarating moment that he was going to be rescued. The feeling dissipated when a new face showed at the door.

'Who..... are you?'

The words earned him a punch in the mouth. He spat a mouthful of blood to the floor. He had lost several teeth and the bones in his face were cracked. The punch knocked him senseless. The man pulled his head up and spoke so close to his face he could taste his breath.

'Keep your mouth closed.' and he threw Hotch's head back forward again, and Hotch felt something in his neck crack

Then the cold of the gun barrel on his neck.

Then nothing moved for an eternity while Hotch waited for him to pull the trigger.

Then the door opened.

'Take another step and I shoot his head off.'

Hotch flinched as the gun pressed harder into the nape of his neck. His head was down. He couldn't see who was at the door.

'Kill him and you will be dead.' Morgan said. He couldn't take his eyes off Hotch. He had seen the pictures, and thought he was prepared for this, but the shock was almost too much. The women, behind him and either side held their guns steady, as did he.

There was blood everywhere; cast off on the walls and ceiling, a pool of clotting blood around Hotch's kneeling body. Hotch was still hanging from the manacles that had been holding him now for almost four days. His head was forward, and his hair was matted with dried blood. He was stripped to the waist, and showed signs of having been beaten extensively. Huge livid bruises showed on his rib cage, and gashes in his skin where he had been repeatedly hit with something. The tips of his fingers were blackened and his remaining clothes were ripped and drenched with blood. He was kneeling awkwardly in a pool of body fluids.

Morgan took a step forwards. Edwards moved his gun away from Hotch's neck, and he sent a bullet into his thigh. Calmly he moved the gun back to Hotch's head.

Hotch took it silently, although he jerked as the bullet tore a hole in him.

Morgan had Edwards lined up for a head shot. He took another step into the room. Again, Edwards' gun moved towards Hotch's other thigh, but Morgan's bullet was faster and drilled a hole in Edward's head before he could injure Hotch again.

Edwards fell back with a crash.

Still Hotch didn't move.

'Get the emergency services down here quickly. Hotch is priority.'

Todd ran up the stairs two at a time. Morgan took Hotch's weight while Emily released the fetters on his arms. The burns under the irons shocked both agents who thought that there was nothing left to shock them. The burns were deep and raw, and Hotch had tears in his eyes as the manacles stuck to his wounds. Carefully they lowered him to the ground. Morgan took off his jacket and covered Hotch with it. Emily did the same, but she rolled hers up and put it behind his head. Hotch gasped in pain as his arms moved from how they had been held for so long. He was unable to lower them. His legs were bent unnaturally, and were obviously broken. His skin was very cold, and he was probably hypothermic. Morgan quickly checked his body for gunshot wounds, but the only one was from the shot in the thigh that was still pumping blood. He pressed down on the hole, and willed the medics to hurry. He wondered how Hotch was able to survive this and still be conscious, but then few men had a will like Hotch.

Emily knelt beside him, hanging onto his hand and desperately wanting to hold him. Opportunity had once handed her a possible future with this man, but she had messed up and the chance had slipped away. Now there was no chance of her ever having him, all she wanted to do was hold him.

What he had said to her at the time was true.

"_You are only interested in me when I am in danger." he had said. "Now I am well and back at work, you don't want me."_

Today he looked up at her with dull eyes. It broke her heart to see this man so crushed.

'You found me.' he whispered as the paramedics rushed down the stairs to him.

'Yes, Hotch, we found you. And we wouldn't have stopped looking until we did.'

Emily moved away from him but did not relinquish his hand, as the medics worked on him. He was able to breathe on his own, but they gave him oxygen to boost his respiration. They put up a wide diameter drip and administered saline and glucose. They splinted his legs and dressed his wounds temporarily. They wrapped him on a silver thermal blanket. Morgan picked up his teeth from the ground and gave them to the medics. Then they watched as he was taken from them up the stairs.

Emily looked at Morgan, who said,

'Emily, you travel with him, we'll follow in the SUV.'

She ran up the stairs to him. One of the medics held her back.

'He's crashed.' he said. 'We are trying to save him.'

_Oh god! Are we too late?_


	9. The Family Together

**STOP MOTION  
**Chapter 9  
The Family Together

"_**Death**__**, the refuge, the solace, the best and kindliest and most prized **__**friend**__** and benefactor of the erring, the forsaken, the old and weary and broken of heart**__**" - Mark Twain **_

Emily heard the whining sound of the paddles being charged. Someone shouted 'Clear!' and the paddles were placed on Hotch's chest. Emily heard the sound of Hotch's shocked body hitting the gurney as he collapsed back down. Emily pushed closer to him. The shock hadn't worked, and he was still dead on the gurney. The medic tried again, and this time Emily watched as his back arched and his heart responded to the current passing through his chest and began to beat again.

Emily realised that she had been holding her breath. Seeing Hotch brought back to life in front of her made her realise what she had almost lost, and the twisting of her guts made her realise just how much she wanted him to live.

They intubated him, and continued carrying him to the waiting ambulance. Emily followed and sat in the ambulance with him, gripping his hand with care. He turned his head towards her, and his eyes were deep and dark. He curled his blackened fingers gently around her hand.

-0-0-0-

Reid was pacing his room. He had just had a message from Dave that Hotch had been found and was on his way in. He needed to get downstairs to the ER and quickly. In the end a compromise was reached, and an orderly wheeled him down in a chair where he waited frantically for the ambulance to arrive. Dave arrived at the same time as he did, and they sat together pacing in their minds, but neither having the energy to do it in reality.

'I can't stand this.' Reid said, frustrated at not being part of the field team.

'Reid,' Dave said, 'please would you call Garcia and let her know we have found Hotch and give her the option of flying out to see him.'

Reid nodded and wheeled himself out to the entrance where he called her.

'We've found him.' Reid said before she could ask. 'They are bringing him in now. Are you.....?'

'I'm flying out on the next available flight, Sweet Cheeks. Where is the hospital?'

Reid gave her the address, and she put the phone down. All she could think of now was to get to be beside him. If he was going to live or die, he would do it with her by his side.

She wasn't sure of her feelings for him. She was not in love with him, at least not yet. But the Lomax case had forged a bond between them that transcended normal human emotions. He was the strongest, bravest man she had ever met, and she cared deeply for him.

Maybe that was love. She wasn't sure. It was so different to that which she shared with Kevin. That was a carnal rather shallow 'love'. What she felt for Aaron went so much deeper. She wanted him, but in a different way.......

All these thoughts flashed through her mind as she threw some things in an over night bag, and called the airline to make her reservation. Her breathing was tight and nervous as she dialled for a taxi, and ran down the stairs to the foyer.

-0-0-0-

As Reid turned his chair to re enter the hospital, an ambulance arrived and Reid stopped long enough to see if it contained Hotch. Reid was hurting, because he hadn't been in the field looking for him. It wasn't that he didn't trust his colleagues to work just as well without him as with him, it was just that maybe, just maybe, they would have found him sooner with another brain working on the problem.

He watched from the door way as someone was wheeled out of the ambulance, and he knew it was Hotch. Whether it was sixth sense, born of his deep love for the man, he didn't know, but even though he couldn't see his face, he knew.

Emily followed his gurney out of the vehicle, and she joined Reid at the door.

'How bad?' he asked.

'Very.' Emily replied. 'His injuries are everywhere. He has so many broken bones that they lost count. His face, his legs, ribs. He might lose his fingers.' She had tears in her eyes. Reid put his arms out to her and they hugged.

'When I see him like that, I want to hold him so much!' she said against Spencer's neck. 'Then when he's safe again, I get confusing feelings for him. I am so afraid that one day he won't come home, and I'd have lost my chance.'

'I understand.' Reid said. 'I love him too.'

-0-0-0-

Dave watched Hotch get wheeled through the ER to Resuss. He was still covered in a silver blanket, but he saw a hand, and the fingers were dark at the tips. If his right hand was damaged, he would lose his job. He stood up and followed the gurney.

'You can't go in there.' someone said to him as he reached out a hand to open the door to Resuss.

'I need to see him. We are as close as brothers.'

'Ok, you can go in, but keep back. If you get in the way you'll have to leave.'

Dave nodded, and opened the door. The silver blanket was gone now, and they were cutting his ripped and blood soaked pyjama bottoms off him, taking extra care where the blood had stuck the fabric to his skin. It was the first time Rossi had seen the extent of the beatings that Aaron had endured, and he felt sickened by what he saw.

How on earth could anyone endure that?

He took a step closer. 'You must save his fingers.' he said. 'He's an FBI Agent. He needs his hands.'

'We are trying to make sure he lives first. When we have done that we will try to save his hands.' came the answer.

Dave backed out of the room. He wanted to cry, so he needed the men's room. He glanced around and saw the men's room at the end of the hall.

As he approached the door to the toilet, he saw Morgan, Emily and Reid sitting in the corridor. He didn't want to see them. He wouldn't be able to talk to them without giving away his inner feelings – something he was not prepared to do.

He had learned at an early age not to cry in front of people.

He turned away and was about to walk in the other direction when Emily called his name. He paused for a beat to try to control his face, and he turned towards his three colleagues.

Morgan's eyes were red, and Dave could see that he had been crying. He was never concerned with showing his feelings; his heart was permanently worn on his sleeve. Emily was more reticent, but he knew she had a strange relationship with Hotchner. Reid, he knew was in love with him. He could see Reid's face was pinched and scared.

'Where's Jordan?' Dave asked.

'She's gone to find a working coffee machine that knows the difference between minestrone soup and 'rich roast'.' said Emily looking into her cup with disgust – anything to try to take her mind off what was going on behind the Resuss door.

'He might lose his fingers.' Reid said.

'I know.' Dave said. 'Excuse me.'

Dave left them together as Todd returned with a tray of coffee. He went straight to the men's room, and grabbing a handful of paper towels, locked himself in a stall. He closed the toilet lid and sat on it, and started to cry. He scrunched up the paper towels and cried into them, muffling the sound of his sobbing.

He knew deep down that crying wasn't a weakness, but he couldn't bring himself to cry in front of his colleagues. He'd seen Morgan cry, and Hotch, and he didn't think less of them as a result. In fact he greatly admired that they were not afraid of their own feelings.

But he couldn't do it.

Between his cries, he prayed. He prayed that Hotch would live, and that he would recover from the dreadful beatings.

'Please, please, take care of him......'

He heard the door open.

'Hey Dave are you in here?'

It was Morgan, bless him, come to see if he was ok. He rubbed his face dry and flushed away the paper towels.

'I'm fine.' he said, opening the stall door. As he was washing his hands, Morgan said, 'You're bleeding again, Dave.'

Sure enough, the bottom edge of his shirt was bloody, and there was a dark wet bloody patch on his trousers.

'Yeah.' he said. 'Guess I should be sitting down.'

Morgan offered his hand, and helped him out of the men's room and back to the seats where the other three were drinking coffee in silence.

-0-0-0-

The flight to Colorado was too long for Garcia. Sometimes she thought of taking the exams to become a field agent, but she knew deep down that her place was doing what she was good at, and that was hacking and programming. She didn't think she'd make a good field agent. But at least then she wouldn't be the last on the scene.

She couldn't get the image of Hotch out of her mind. She had insisted on seeing the photographs of him, but wished she hadn't. The image of him hanging from the manacles, his blood everywhere, was etched into her memory and however much she tried to over write it with visions of him at the meal with Todd and her Doctor, the awful image of him beaten and barely alive always shone through.

When the plane had landed, she almost ran down the steps onto the tarmac. Straight to the car hire kiosk, and before long she was driving to the hospital.

She hated being alone and driving somewhere new. Where was the car park? Did she have enough change for the machine? Would she get there without getting lost?

Would Hotch be dead when she got there?

She knew her make up was smudged, and her hair was a mess, but she for once really didn't care. She just wanted to be at Hotch's side.

She found the hospital without getting lost, fed the meter, and ran to the ER. She saw the others sitting in silence – the fact that they weren't all crying told her that Hotch was still alive. As she ran along the corridor to be with them, a doctor called out, 'Who is here for Agent Aaron Hotchner?'

Dave stood up with difficulty and the doctor approached them.

'We have managed to stabilise him now. He is on his way to surgery.' he said. 'It will be a long and complex job. The bones of his face are cracked and need pinning. His legs are badly broken, and may also need to be pinned. His wounds are cleaned and stitched, and his burns are covered. He has some deep burns which will take a long time to heal. They seem to be the result of repeated electric shocks.'

'He has been tortured for four days, Doc.' Morgan said. 'We don't know everything that happened to him.'

'The shocks may have damaged his heart. He crashed several times in Resuss, and the last time, we weren't at all sure that we could bring him back again. Hopefully, the damage is temporary, and will heal. In the meantime, he could arrest at any time. This surgery is very dangerous for him, but it can't be left.'

'Will you be able to save his hands?' Emily said.

'His fingers are badly damaged, especially those on his left hand. It seems that he had an earlier injury to his right arm, and while Mr Hotchner was being held, he took most of his weight on his left arm, leading to necrosis being more extensive on his left hand. We will try to save them.' the doctor said. 'That's the best you can hope for at the moment. As soon as we have news, I'll come back and tell you. I have to go now.'

When the Doctor was gone, Garcia sat down with her face in her hands. Jordan put her arm around her.

'I want to see him.' Garcia said. She took her hands away from her face and looked at Jordan. 'I just want to see him.'

-0-0-0-

In the elevator, Hotch crashed again. The theatre nurse compressed his chest. Someone else readied the paddles as a third removed the oxygen.

'Charging three hundred......clear!'

And Aaron's beaten and broken body jerked off the bed.

The nurse continued compressing his chest, but inside her own heart, she thought that they would be calling very soon.


	10. No Escape

**STOP MOTION  
**Chapter 10  
No Escape

"_**But, for many minutes, the heart beat on with a muffled sound." – The Tell-Tale Heart by Edgar Allan Poe**_

Whether it was the skill of the doctors, or Aaron's sheer doggedness, at the third attempt, his fragile damaged heart beat on its own and resumed pumping the life through his battered body. The elevator was filled with a renewed hope as the doors opened on the OR floor.

They wanted him out of the OR as soon as possible, so two teams worked on Aaron at the same time. The bones of his legs were pulled into position and pinned, and the gunshot wound in his thigh was repaired and closed. His facial bones were so badly broken he was bolted into a cage to keep him still. His jaws were wired and his cheek bones pinned.

But the main things that most of the doctors present were concerned about were his fingers.

-0-0-0-

Aaron's team members, friends and lovers waited in the relatives' room. They had been here before; different states, different doctors, same anxiety and fear.

Dave paced slowly up and down the room. He had abandoned one crutch and his right hand gripped the wet bloody patch on his lower abdomen. He ignored Morgan and Emily's pleas to sit down. He knew he was going to be ok, and this doing nothing was stringing him out. Pacing gave him something to do.

'For god's sake, sit down!' Reid shouted in frustration. He sat in a wheel chair in the corner and had said nothing up to now. He watched his fingers in his lap rip a tissue into tiny pieces and wondered if Hotch would still have his hands when they brought him out. It would be the end of his career if he didn't, a career that he had sacrificed his family to. If he lost this, Reid knew, if that god he had sacrificed to proved false, he would be as good as dead inside.

'Sorry.' Dave sat down on the edge of a chair as far from Reid as possible in the tiny room. This was not lost on Morgan who turned away from the window through which he had been staring for the half hour that they had been waiting.

'Let's not fall apart.' Morgan said. 'However this turns out Hotch is going to need us.' He had no doubt that Hotch was going to make it. He just didn't know how Hotch would react if he lost his job.

'Yeah.....,sorry Rossi.' Reid said without raising his head. 'Didn't mean to snap.'

Garcia had been on an ice cream hunt with Jordan, and she arrived back at that moment. Four pairs of eyes looked up hoping for news, and looked down again when they saw who it was. Garcia handed out the ice creams, and the team obediently unwrapped them and started eating them.

'Thanks Baby Doll.' Morgan said. No one else spoke. Dave stood with a groan and limped over to stand with Morgan and look out of the window onto the car park. A bit of a grey view, but at least it was a changing vista and people didn't look as if they were about to burst into tears.

'My apologies, Derek.' Dave said. 'I don't know what came over me. I'll never be the team leader that Hotch is. I don't want the job by default.'

Morgan put his arm across his friend's shoulder and squeezed lightly.

'I understand. The team needs Hotch as much as Hotch needs the team. We have to stay focussed.'

'Are Lester and Burrows in this hospital?' Emily asked. 'I'd like to chat with them.'

'Good idea.' Dave said, turning to face what was essentially his team until Hotch was back. 'Take Reid with you and see what you can find out. We really need to know if there is anyone else out there, or if we got the whole gang.'

Emily nodded and wheeled Spencer out of the room. Dave sat down again and put his face in his hands.

_Don't cry here, David......_

But he couldn't hold back any more.

-0-0-0-

In the dish that the theatre nurse was holding were two blackened fingertips. As she walked away from the operating table to deposit the necrotised fingers for histology, she glanced at the man's now deformed hand. She had watched surgeons remove entire necrotised limbs before, but this had affected her more than ever before. She knew a little of what had happened to this man, how he had been kidnapped and tortured for four days before he was rescued, and now his entire future was in doubt because of what the kidnappers had done to him.

She put the dish down and went around the table to where the surgeon was attending to Hotchner's other hand.

-0-0-0-

Morgan and Garcia pretended that they hadn't noticed Dave's breakdown. Jordan went and sat next to him.

Dave flinched and tried to wipe his eyes without anyone noticing.

'I need the men's room.' he announced unnecessarily, and left the room.

Morgan sat down next to Garcia and opposite Jordan. Then the doctor came in. Morgan stood up. He wanted to ask if Hotch was alive. Instead he stood mutely, and waited for the doctor to say something.

'Agent Hotchner is still in surgery.' he said. 'Although his injuries are extensive, none are life threatening on their own. However....' he paused, he hated giving this kind of news. 'However, put together, there is a tremendous strain on him, and with the injury to the heart muscle, he is in imminent danger of crashing. He will have to stay in intensive care for quite a long time, until his heart has recovered from the damage caused by repeated shocking.

'We have also had to remove the little finger and top joint of his ring finger of his left hand. We are hoping that the necrosis on his remaining fingers is only surface, and the tissue may recover.'

'His right hand?' Morgan asked. He needed to be sure.

'We are leaving his right hand intact because of his job. Leaving necrotised finger tips could endanger his whole hand, but we thought under the circumstances, it was worth the risk.'

Morgan blinked. 'His hand?'

'If the tissue doesn't recover, and the necrosis spreads, he could lose his hand, or possibly worse. We are hoping that the necrosis is only on the surface. We can't tell for sure without doing a biopsy, and we prefer to leave the tissue undisturbed.'

'When can I....I mean we see him?' Garcia asked, a faint tremor of desperation in her voice.

'Agent Hotchner is due out of surgery now. It will be about half an hour before you will be able to sit with him. It could be days before he responds to you. I will come for you as soon as he is out of recovery.'

-0-0-0-

Aaron's first awareness was of the softness of the bed he was lying on. He wasn't certain he wanted to come back. This could be a trick to try to trigger the Stockholm Syndrome in him. He was in pain, but it was a distant muffled pain as if he was feeling it through the softness on the bed. Had they given him pain killers?

He tried to move and the result was to make him dizzy behind his closed eye lids. There was something in his throat and he panicked. The first time he had felt panic since he had been abducted from his bed at gunpoint.

This was the first time he didn't understand what was going on.

A sudden dreadful pain, like a steel band tightening across his chest, stopped all thought, and he was sucked down into a mire of hopelessness.

The tiny movement as not lost on Garcia. She had been sitting with him for many hours now, and she was sure he had moved his head. But the movement was forgotten as the crash alarm sounded, and the intensive care team rushed into Hotch's ward.

There was a crash trolley already waiting by his side. Garcia stepped away from him and watched the scene play out in front of her in slow motion.

The back of her mind registered 'clear!' and she watched Aaron's back arch and his body jerk from the bed.

'Clear!' again. How could he take this? How much could one man take without giving up?

Or Had he?

'Don't give up, Hotch!' she called to him softly. 'We love you. Don't leave us!'

She saws the oscilloscope register the heart beat before she heard the sound.

He was back again......for now.

She resumed her seat next to him. She wanted to hold his hand, but they were bandaged and fragile. Instead she touched his face through the steel cage with the backs of her fingers.

'Stay with us, Hotch. Just stay with us.'

-0-0-0-

Dave had been dragged back to the ER to have his gunshot wound checked out. He took the rebuke for "rushing around like an idiot", and lay back quietly as the stitches were re done, and the dressing changed. Todd had gone back to the hotel to collect some clean clothes for him, and despite not wanting to be fussed over, he did feel better with clean jeans and shirt on. He promised to use both crutches, and he was dismissed, but not before getting told off again, and made to promise not to act as if he hadn't been shot in the guts.

He was in pain again after having been "poked about" and he slowly made his way back to wait with the others outside Hotch's room. Morgan told him what had just happened.

'We could still lose him, you know.' Jordan said. 'His heart is still so weak.'

Dave nodded and went into the room where Garcia had her head on his bed with her eyes closed. He sat down on the other side of the bed and touched Aaron's arm.

'Aaron,' he said. 'It's Dave. I wanted to say that we are all here for you. When you are ready, just open your eyes, and we'll be here.'

Dave patted his arm gently, and stood up again. He left the room without waking Garcia.

-0-0-0-

The voice came from a long way off, but he recognised it instantly.

Dave.

His friend.

Could it really be Dave? Had they found him?

Thinking was difficult. It was like trying to walk in treacle.

Was it another trick? He refused to allow them to trick him. Why didn't they just kill him and leave him alone?

He fought his way upwards and tried to open his eyes. He needed to see where he was. He needed to be awake to counter this trick they were playing on him.

The light filtered through his eye lids and his lashes cast shadows across his retina. With effort, he forced his eyes to open a tiny bit and look up at the ceiling.

He was in a different room now. No longer grey with a single dim bulb casting yellow light. This room was bright and he closed his eyes quickly. The light felt like a burn on his eyes, and he tried to turn his head.

Something was holding his head still. It felt as if his head was clamped to something and he felt a deep helpless fear. He tried to scream but something was in his throat. He couldn't move his jaws.

Tears of impotence and fear welled up in his eyes and forced themselves between his eye lids. The warmth of his tears on his skin was somehow calming, proving to him that the sensations that he was feeling were real. He flinched as something or someone touched his face. Inside he screamed but he was not able to make a sound. The touch was not hurting him, and he was confused, as things only hurt him now. Why were they tricking him? What did they want?

He felt his tears gently wiped away, and more fell to take their place.


	11. Questions

**STOP MOTION  
**Chapter 11  
Questions

"_**When you think it's the end, beware it is not just a new beginning!" - ANON**_

Connie Burrows was too poorly to be interviewed. Emily and Spencer watched the machines breathe for him for a few moments.

'Let's get away from here.' Emily said. 'Before the temptation to go in there and switch him off becomes too great.'

'Yeah.' Reid was thinking the same thing. This was the man partly responsible for the dreadful state their Unit Chief was in.

Emily wheeled Reid past the police guard to the ward where Glen Lester lay recovering. He had a bullet wound to the shoulder, and was probably going to be released into FBI custody the following day.

Emily pushed Reid through the door and up to the bed.

'We want to ask you some questions, Lester.'

'I'll tell you anything you want.' he babbled. 'I had no idea this was a murder gang I was involved with. We were just supposed to rough the guy up a bit, scare him off.'

'And you left him for dead in the road.' Emily said, images of Hotch when they found him in the road, beaten and dazed flashed before her.

'It got out of hand. I thought they'd killed him.'

'They?'

'We. I thought we'd killed him. I was surprised when we got the order to fetch him from the hotel. I didn't know they were going to torture him.'

Emily clenched her fists. 'So when you realised what was going on, you stayed?'

'I was scared of Connie'

'Come off it!' Reid said. 'You're a con. You don't scare easily.'

'I swear, I had no idea what they were doing!' Lester wailed. 'On my mother's grave, I swear.'

'And yet you were guarding the house where our agent was being tortured.' Reid said. 'You are going down for a long long time.'

Emily and Reid turned to leave the man crying crocodile tears. At the door, Emily turned back. 'And I'm afraid the "mother's grave" oath is a bit premature.'

They left the room, and made their way back to the elevator.

'I don't think he'll be too much trouble when the cops get to chat to him.' Emily said. 'Damned creep.'

Reid agreed. 'It's a shame we won't be in on it.' he said. 'I'd like to have a go at him standing up.'

-0-0-0-

Since his last crash, Hotch had been deeply sedated and Garcia was sitting in the relatives' room with the others. They had decided to take it in turns to go to the hotel and freshen up and have a little sleep if necessary. Morgan and Dave went back first. Dave was not well, and he was afraid that if he was seen so obviously in pain he would be re admitted. When they got to Morgan's room, Dave lay on the bed to relax a bit and went straight to sleep. Morgan pulled the quilt off the other bed and wrapped it around his colleague.

'Sleep tight.' Morgan whispered and went into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

Now he was away from the confines of the hospital he was able to think more clearly about the case.

They knew about four men. Samuels and Edwards were dead, and the other two were in hospital. He felt there was something missing though. Connie Burrows was a small timer. And yet they were supposed to believe that he was running this case.

Eleven jurors killed, a tortured and beaten FBI Agent. That was not small time.

The more Morgan thought about it, the more unlikely it felt that Burrows was the gang leader.

Morgan turned the shower so that the hard needles of water massaged his aching shoulders. He moved them in a circular motion to try to release the knots in his muscles.

A fifth man? Was there a fifth of whom they had no clue?

The fifth man was off the radar, and yet would have been close to Bellway. They had checked out all the "known associates". Now they had to check out the "unknown" ones.

Without having the shave he was looking forward to, he dried himself hurriedly and left the bathroom with the towel wrapped around him.

Sitting carefully on the side of the bed so as not to waken Dave, he put his hands on his face and tried to profile this new UnSub.

No criminal record; very close to Burrows although not listed as an associate; intelligent and motivated; probably older that Burrows, to get these small time crooks involved in kidnapping and murder, he or she would have to command respect and have a powerful personality....

Morgan looked at Dave, who so badly needed the sleep. But this was important and he could sleep again afterwards if he thought that he was wrong.

'Dave! Wake up.' He shook him by the shoulder. 'Wake up, Dave. I've thought if something.'

'Huh?' Dave mumbled. 'Sorry. How long have I....'

'It's ok! No listen. I've thought of something.'

-0-0-0-

They were back in the tiny room in the precinct HQ. Garcia made a face as she sat down at the table.

'If there is a fifth man, then this case is still wide open.' Rossi said

'If that's the case, Steven Bill could still be in danger.' Emily stood up. 'I'll call him and get over there.'

'I'll come with you, Em. He knows me.' Jordan said, and the two agents left.

'I called Judge Grady on the way over here. He refuses protection, but he has been warned. He will not be easy to get to.' Morgan said.

'So who would it be? Garcia, is your laptop connected to your Quantico computer?' Dave asked. He realised that he should know the answer to that question. If he ever had to lead the team on a permanent basis, he would have to get to know the technology properly.

'Yes Sir.' She opened her computer on the table and made the connection with her bunker.

'I am afraid this UnSub is completely unknown. See if you can come up with a list of names that match Morgan's profile.'

Garcia frowned as she hit the keys. Sometimes they thought she had some kind of magical powers, she decided. She started with Bellway's family.

No siblings. Parents dead......... wait a moment........ She hit some more keys. Yes, it was pretty magical really!........... There was something else.

A half brother.

'I think I might have found something!' she said.

Rossi and Morgan stopped chatting and were at once attentive.

'A half brother, Stanley Raymond. He had two masters' degrees, and no record. Although he has been known to dabble a bit in prostitution and drugs, there's never been an arrest and he has never even been a suspect in a case. There you go – intelligent, clean record, close to Bellway, about ten years older than he was.' She turned to Dave and Morgan. 'He fits the profile.'

'He does. Do you have an address?'

'There is no address, but he's a senior lecturer at Daniels Business College, Denver University.' She closed her lap top with a flourish. 'You might find him there!'

She handed Rossi some photographs and information that had been printing off. 'These might be useful.'

-0-0-0-

With Dave still on crutches, Morgan drove to the Campus. They didn't call first, not wanting to warn him that they were on their way.

If he was the gang leader, taking revenge for his brother's death, they didn't want him doing a runner before they could get to him.

They decided that they would approach it as if they were following up on Bellway's death, and see where that took them. Morgan was to take the lead in asking the questions. Dave hoped there wouldn't be a chase. The best he could do in that situation was to trip him up with his crutch.

Raymond was having a coffee in his office when the Agents arrived. Dave left the crutches in the SUV. He didn't want to look helpless in front of a suspect. They were shown in to a very nice cosy office. There were African artefacts on the walls, and the floor was highly polished timber with a woven rug. Dave thought that the artefacts were actually copies and he longed to have a closer look. But the tall thin man with glasses who occupied the room bade them sit down, and Rossi had to anyway. He let out a silent sigh as he sat. Morgan remained standing.

'Would you like a drink? Coffee or I have something stronger.'

They both declined. They could already see that Morgan standing made him nervous. He hesitated before he sat down behind his desk. The desk gave him a natural barrier, but sitting put him at a disadvantage. He looked agitated.

Morgan spoke. Rossi watched the suspect carefully.

'We would like to have a brief chat with you about your late brother, Paul Bellway.' Morgan said by way of openers. A look of apprehension, Dave noticed, flashed briefly across his eyes. Then he got control, and answered.

'I hadn't seen Paul for years. I was sorry when he died, so close to coming out, but then, if he hadn't been inside, he wouldn't have got AIDS would he?'

'That seems very harsh.' Morgan said. 'He was after all your brother.'

'Half brother. And a con. We were never close.'

'Do you recognise any one in this photo, Mr Raymond?' Dave put a photo on the desk.

'Doctor Raymond.' he corrected petulantly, sliding the picture towards him. 'Where did you get this?'

'It was taken in nineteen ninety two, shortly before Bellway's arrest. Do you still say you weren't close?'

'That was a one off. We......'

Dave slid another picture across. 'Nineteen ninety.'

Raymond turned red in the face.

'So, we partied. So what?'

Rossi produced another sheet of paper and slid it over to Raymond.

'That is a sample of Bellway's visitors' log. Do you recognise it?'

'Why should I. I never went there.'

' Notice the third name down. Ray Stanley. Really, Mr Raymond. A brain like yours should be able to come up with something better than that!' Morgan smiled at the man on the other side of the desk, who was leaning forwards, as if to get up.

'Oh please, Mr Raymond, don't get up. We can find out way to the door.' Dave said politely. He stood up, taking great care not to show weakness, and he led Morgan out of the office. They both smiled sweetly at the secretary who had obviously been listening in on the conversation. As they went down in the elevator, Dave leaned against the wall.

'I think we've ruffled a feather or two there, don't you?'

'I think we have. He's definitely our man. Now just to prove it, and we can get a warrant to arrest him.'

'Will you help me back to the car, Morgan? I think I've over done it again.' Blood was on the tips of his fingers. He did up his jacket to hide the stain.

'You stay in the foyer, I'll fetch the car.'

Dave did as he was bid. He sat in the corner of the entrance hall, waiting for Morgan to come back. As he got his breath back, the elevator door opened, and Raymond exited, running quickly across the tiled entryway, almost knocking a student over in his haste to leave the building.

Dave watched with interest. So where was he going in such a hurry?

-0-0-0-

Steve Bill was a little annoyed.

'It's only a precaution.' Jordan said. 'Just stay inside away from the windows. We will be here too. It's weekend, so there's no need to go out.'

Bill grumbled at his confinement, but he was a sensible man really, and cared deeply for his family. He decided to paint the banister, something his wife had been nagging him to do for ages. The kids played computer games, delighted at not being sent outside to play in the "fresh air", something they hated. Julie, his wife, sat and chatted with Emily and Jordan.

It all seemed just a bit too peaceful.........

-0-0-0-

The student nurse at the desk was being chatted up by a very nice new doctor. She had her back to the monitors.

Aaron was in a deep drug induced coma. He could feel no pain or fear, just silent softness. He didn't feel the IV tubes roughly being pulled from his arms, or the traction pulley being detached from his leg. The heart monitor was switched off, and he was lifted off the bed and dropped into a deep trolley, reserved for conveying bodies to the mortuary when they had to pass in front of the public. The cage that was bolted to his skull clanged against the side of the box, and he felt something for the first time. He groaned slightly, but didn't regain consciousness. This was too easy.

The two men in blue scrubs wheeled the trolley out of the room and along the corridor towards the elevator that led down to the mortuary.


	12. The Search

**STOP MOTION  
**Chapter 12  
The Search

"_**You're **__**searching**__** for things that don't exist; I mean beginnings. Ends and beginnings -- there are no such things. There are only middles.**__**" – Robert frost**_

'How does this thing come off his head?' one of the guys in scrubs said.

'How the hell do I know? I'm not a doctor!'

'Well you sure as hell look like one!'

The two men chuckled to themselves in the stationary elevator on their way down to the morgue. One of them had opened the metal coffin like box and had pulled Aaron's head up by the hair.

'Why do we have to remove it anyway?'

'I have an idea.' He tilted Aaron's head to one side to get a better look at the cage. 'It looks as if it's bolted on. It will need cutting off.'

'I have some bolt cutters in the car. Let's just get this body hidden and then we can come back. We've got hours before the day shift starts.'

'Right.' He dropped Aaron back down and the cage clanged against the side of the box. Aaron groaned again.

'Hey! I thought you said this guy was dead.'

'Not yet he's not.' he answered with a snicker. He relocked the box and pressed the start button of the elevator. It resumed its downward journey with an unhealthy clunk.

'Go to the car and get the bolt cutters, I'll stay with the body. Just be quick. I don't fancy being down there with all those corpses on my own.'

'What about the night watchman? How will you shut him up?'

'With this.' he answered with a grin, showing his fellow the Tazer. 'Orders are not to touch him unless he gets suspicious. Pity it's not a gun though. I prefer guns.'

'Too noisy I guess.'

'With a silencer on, Dick-head!' he sighed. 'How come I got stuck with a moron like you?' He waved the Tazer in the other's face. The rest of the descent was spent in silence.

The elevator stopped its slow descent with a clang, and he opened the metal doors. The elevator opened into the main storage room of the mortuary, where the bodies were kept in their refrigerated drawers until such time as they went for burial or a post mortem was ordered. In the centre of the room were two stainless steel tables, neither of which held a body at the moment. The night watchman was asleep in an office off the side, the TV blaring out football results to the sleeping world. The man closed the door carefully.

While his fellow conspirator went to his car to fetch the bolt cutters, he pulled open a few of the drawers and took a look at the unfortunate occupants. At the forth try he found what he was looking for.

He pulled the man out and dropped the body onto the floor. His toe tag read "Andrew Fisher – RTA"

Perfect.

He removed the toe tag and took it to the trolley. He opened it and silently reached in and got hold of Aaron's ankle, re attaching the tag to his toe. Aaron moved and groaned again, his bandaged hands fluttered briefly towards his face, but he was still not free of the drugs that had been keeping him under. The man in the scrubs started to panic. He wanted to knock him right out with a punch to his face but the cage around his face stopped him.

Where the hell was that idiot with the bolt cutters?

As if on cue, the side door opened and the bolt cutters arrived. He snatched them from his fellow, and leaned into the box with them.

It was difficult to get the cutters right. The bolts needed to be cut close to the skin so that his dark hair would cover the remains. He grunted as he twisted himself around to get the right angle, and brought the handles together.

Seconds later, and Aaron's head was free. The two men reached in and pulled him out of the box.

'Put him on that open drawer.'

The two men manhandled Aaron to the drawer that was once the home of Andrew Fisher. There was still a tube in his throat, which was yanked out roughly. Aaron coughed and gagged as the tube was removed. He glanced across at the night watchman, who hadn't stirred. One of them removed Aaron's hospital gown and bandages while the other dragged Andrew Fisher to an empty drawer at the end of the row. He pushed the man's body into the space.

'Put the cage thing and these bandages in there too. By the time they find them it will be too late.'

He pulled Aaron out straight on the drawer, covered him with a sheet and slid the drawer closed. Then he removed the Tazer from his pocket and shot the other man with it. The surprise and shock on his face almost made him laugh.

He dragged him to the corner and he joined Mr Fisher and the bolt cutters in the drawer, and this one then silently slid home.

Oh man – too easy! He carefully opened the door of the security guard's office. The man moved and snorted in his sleep but he didn't wake up. He closed the trolley and wheeled it into the corner whence he had taken it an hour previously, and walked out of the mortuary as if he owned the place,

-0-0-0-

'I only want to sit with him in case he comes round in the night and finds himself alone.' the young man in the wheel chair insisted. 'I promised him he would never be left alone, and now he is.'

The student nurse wasn't sure what to do. The staff nurse was upstairs visiting her boyfriend who was a porter on the top floor. She decided to risk her wrath and call her. As she picked up the phone, Reid looked at the monitors.

Immediately he saw that there was something wrong. The monitor labelled "Hotchner" in red felt tip was blank.

'What's happened to Hotch's monitor?' he said, suddenly afraid. 'It's blank!'

The girl put down the phone and looked at the blank screen.

'Oh my god!' She ran out from behind the desk and ran down the corridor.

_Please don't let him have died! Not now, or we're both in deep crap! Please no!........._

Reid kept up as best he could, but he heard her gasp before he got to Hotch's room.......

'Oh my god! He's gone!'

Reid rounded the corner into the room. Hotch's sheets were pulled back and his IV's were dripping onto the floor. The oxygen cylinder was still on, pumping oxygen into the air. The monitor was turned off; otherwise the alarm would have sounded. The pads that once were attached to Hotch's chest hung silently from the bed.

'Get security, Miss, and get the staff nurse back down here. I want this hospital locked down. Hotchner must not be taken from the premises.' Incongruously, Reid showed her his FBI ID from is seat in the wheel chair. With tear filled eyes she ran back to the nurses' station and called security, hitting the alarm button as she went.

In the car park, the alarm was heard by a man in scrubs, as he drove out of the hospital grounds.

-0-0-0-

'How can they lose him? Don't they have staff in that hospital?'

'Seems the staff nurse had an assignation to keep, and left a student in charge of the ICU. They are both facing disciplinary action, though I don't blame the student nurse. She only just started in ICU, and was afraid to dob her staff nurse in it.'

Rossi sighed. 'We're on our way over, Reid. Start a systematic search of the hospital. I just pray that they didn't have time to get him out of the grounds yet.'

Reid cut the connection and looks across at the security staff.

'Ok.' Reid said, not at all sure of his authority here since he was technically a patient. 'Security, begin a thorough search of the hospital for him. It is vitally urgent. This man has a weakened heart and can crash at any time.' Reid wiped sweat from his forehead. His chest was starting to hurt too. The last thing the team needed now was for him to be confined to his bed.

The security staff were also unsure of his authority, but they did as they were asked, albeit begrudgingly. The hospital had eight stories plus a basement. They began at the top.

Reid sat uselessly in his chair on the fifth floor, talking to Morgan on his cell. No one dared to tell him he couldn't use it under the circumstances.

So they were onto a fifth UnSub now?

'It would have taken at lest two men to take Hotch from the ward. He's not a small man, and the job would have had to be done quickly and smoothly.'

'It's unlikely that Raymond would do his own dirty work.' Morgan said. 'He probably sent in hired thugs to do the work.'

Reid swallowed hard. Hired thugs touching Aaron in the state he was in didn't bare thinking about. The time they had to find him suddenly shortened in his mind.

-0-0-0-

The softness had gone but the silence was complete. He was aware of biting cold and severe pain. Somehow that felt right to him. It was what he was used to; swimming in an icy blackness that held him under. The pain across his chest was unbelievable, but he wasn't sure if his heart was beating or not. He tried to move but the cold nothingness held him in a tight grip and movement was impossible. His hands hurt dreadfully and he couldn't flex his fingers. He felt numb from the waist down and that was good. He allowed the black ice fingers to dip into his soul and gently and agonisingly, he fell unconscious, and could feel nothing at all.

-0-0-0-

'So who is first today? The pathologist said briskly as he entered his domain at seven that morning. His assistant had already begun work and had laid out the first of two bodies for him.

Mikey had been working for the pathologist for three years now, and worshipped the very ground he walked on. He was a little slow thoughts wise, but he was an excellent assistant, and the pathologist was glad to have him. He was scrupulous in his work and never minded staying late. He smiled at his boss as he came through the door.

'The first one is ready for you, Sir.' he said. 'Ms Jennifer Mary Spalding. Suspected carbon monoxide poisoning.'

The pathologist glanced down at the body. Bright pink cheeks that belied her age of eighty six.

'Let's get cracking. We have a busy day today.'

-0-0-0-

Monday morning at the Bill home.

'This is taking longer than we thought.' Emily said to Stephen after a long talk with Dave on the phone. She didn't tell Steve about their missing agent. She just said, 'I want to get you all to the safe house today as soon as you can get some things together. There has been a development and we are now certain that there is still a gang member at large.'

Julie sighed heavily. 'Can't we just stay here? It was so bloody boring at your safe house.'

'That is why I want you to get some things together first. It should only be for a day or two.'

The kids were delighted. Another FBI safe house! What a terrific story for their class mates. Sara got a book and Gameboy. Jon gathered a handful of games and his X-Box.

'We're ready!' Jon announced. Jordan dressed the kids in Kevlar vests and gave one each to Julie and Steve. Emily made a quick perimeter check before she deemed it safe for the six of them to make a dash for the SUV.

This was a different safe house. They would never use the same one twice. The eighth floor of a slightly run down apartment block. Julie screwed her nose up.

'It's not for long. Honey.' Steve put his arm around his wife. 'It's to keep the kids safe – look at it like that.'

In the event, the inside was rather nice. Julie thought.

'Ok, just for a day or two.'

She switched the TV on and watched Quincy.

-0-0-0-

'Well that didn't take long did it?' the pathologist said. 'Did you notice the cherry red colour of the lungs, Mikey?'

Mikey nodded, awestruck.

'Always a sign of CO poisoning.' He patted Mikey on the shoulder condescendingly. 'Who's next?'

'Andrew Fisher, RTA.' Mikey said, opening the next drawer.


	13. End Note

**STOP MOTION  
**Chapter 13  
End Note

_**I'm not afraid of death. It's the stake one puts up in order to play the game of life. ~Jean Giraudoux, **__**Amphitryon**__**, 1929 **_

The pathologist quickly looked down at the information about this man. He had died post op after being hit by a car. Mikey put a new tape in the machine and film in the camera. The pathologist weighed and measured the body, and started recording.

'Autopsy number....' He referred to the sheet. '750806. Andrew Fisher RTA died yesterday at ten thirty six, post op.' He began to examine the body. 'A well nourished white male about forty five years old. Height and weight as recorded. Fractures to both shins, consistent with having been hit by a vehicle. Deep bruising to ribs and facial injuries also consistent with having been thrown across the bonnet of a car.'

He turned the head looking for head injuries and found none. He did find the remains of the cage under the hair. He made a note of this on the recording.

'I would expect to see head trauma, but the skull appears to be intact. Most injuries consistent with vehicular impact are present, but also other injuries are manifest, more consistent with beating than RTA.'

He turned the recorder off and took photographs of the injuries. Then he turned to Mikey.

'There is something wrong here. Please would you check the toe tag.'

'Andrew Fisher, RTA.' read Mikey.

The Pathologist turned on the recorder again.

'There are major injuries here that do not point to RTA, more to torture and beating. A deep small diameter wound to the thigh, could be a gunshot wound or a stab wound. It has been repaired recently. Severe deep burns to the upper arms, and what appears to be necrosis of the finger tips. Left hand forth finger and top joint of the third finger have been recently amputated. Specimen bottle please Mikey....... Thank you. Removing blackened tissue from second finger tip for histology.'

He sliced the tip of the next finger and dropped it into the bottle, and Mikey wrote "750806 Fisher LH 2nd finger tip." on the label, and placed it in the rack that was soon to hold the internal organs.

'Help me turn the body.......Thank you. Further evidence of beating on the backs of both legs and buttocks consistent with a blunt instrument. Thin deep wounds to the back and shoulders. Deep what appears to be a bite mark on the right shoulder.'

He took several more photographs.

'Ok, turn him back. I am now going to cut the 'Y' incision.'

Mikey handed his Boss a new scalpel, and he dug it into the upper right chest of the body and drew it down through the muscle.

He stopped after after three inches and was horrified when blood flowed from the wound.

'Oh my god, this man's still alive!' he shouted in shock. 'Mikey, get Mr. Fisher's surgeon down here pronto!'

Mikey was already on the phone. He had heard of this happening, but he had never seen it happen himself.

'Mikey Jones, Pathology department. Andrew Fisher RTA is still alive!' the pathologist heard Mikey say. Mikey put the phone down. 'I'll get some blankets.' he said, and left for the lounge where there were some blankets there for "on call" staff. He rushed back with the blanket for Fisher as the Pathologist tried to staunch the blood flow from the deep slit he had cut in the man's chest.

When the surgical team got to pathology, the doctor took one look at the body and said,

'That's not Andrew Fisher.'

'I thought there was something not right with the injuries.' the pathologist said. 'So who the hell is this man, and where is the real Andrew Fisher?'

The surgeon called security.

'I think we might have found your missing Agent.'

-0-0-0-

'You did what?' Raymond shouted. 'They will know straight away that it's not a corpse you bloody idiot!'

'But I thought.......'

'You weren't getting paid to think, you were getting paid to do as you were ordered. I want that man dead, and all you had to do was shove him into an empty tray. He would die in there within a few hours. Now you have messed that up.'

The man tried to look defiant, but he was scared. He was looking down at his fidgeting hands in his lap. When he looked up again, Raymond had a Tazer pointing at him. Two strong blasts and he was down. A prolonged strike at his left chest, and he was dead. Raymond leaned over and removed the envelope with the payment money from the man's pocket. Then he opened the car door and shoved him out onto the car park.

'Damned incompetent idiot.' he muttered to himself, and turned the car round and headed back to the campus.

-0-0-0-

Hotch was back in his bed, under police guard this time. He was unconscious, and the cage across his face had been replaced. The bones were out of alignment again, and the surgery to replace the cage was complicated by the broken bolts from the last time. The deep slice into his chest had been repaired by a shocked pathologist. When the other two bodies were found in the drawer, and he realised what he had almost been tricked into doing, he felt deeply sorry for the Agent. He was concerned that he had removed his fingertip, but the surgeon said not to worry.

'It is unlikely that he will go home with either hand.' he had said.

The BAU were trying to find proof of Raymond's guilt. When the dead man was found in the drawer with a cell phone in his pocket, it pointed to a new lead.

'Check if he had any calls on his cell between the time we left Raymond's to the time Aaron was removed from the hospital bed.' Dave said to Garcia. 'That would have been when Raymond called him.'

'There was one call in that time, Sir.' she answered, her fingers flying across the keys. 'But the call was from a disposable cell – impossible to trace.'

'Actually', Morgan said, 'I have an idea about that. When would he have thrown away the phone?'

'Probably as soon as he had made the call.' Emily said.

'If he didn't turn it off, we can find it.'

'I'm on it!' Garcia said excitedly.

She was feeling torn. Now Hotch was safe again, she wanted to be with him, touching him, trying to reassure him. But they had to get this UnSub who had hurt him to the point of death.

She just didn't want him to wake up alone.

-0-0-0-

Reid was with him. He looked at the man he so wanted as a lover; he gently touched his white pale skin and hoped that maybe one day he would be able to see what he offered him. But reality and dreams were never the same, and he grieved inwardly for a love he had never had.

Aaron was gradually becoming aware again. He had a memory of being freed from the grey room, but he also remembered being tricked into thinking Dave was still alive, when he had seen him get shot in front of him.

He was confused, and he flinched away from the fingers that were lightly stroking his face. He wanted to live, but not at a broken beaten man. He had lost his strength and his determination – it had been steadily beaten out of him. How could he live without all the things that were so important to him? His eyes were closed but he could see what he had become – a mere shell of a damaged man who had no right to carry on living.

Why were they doing this to him? They had said they were going to finish him, yet here he was!

Maybe this was the finishing. Offer him freedom from pain at the price of his dignity and integrity.

The hand touched him again. This time he didn't flinch. He welcomed the touch. This was his way to a pain free existence; accept what they were doing to him, and try to recapture his sanity which he had lost.

He was faced with a choice – live with what had happened to him, a slave of weakness and impotence, or die as he was – beaten and broken, but with his integrity intact.

He chose to die.............

-0-0-0-

The soporific rhythm of the heart monitor suddenly gave way to an alarm as Aaron died on the bed next to Reid. He was about to call for help when the nurses and the closest doctor rushed into the room.

'Save him! Please save him!' Reid whispered as the routine of charging the paddles and applying them to Hotch's bruised and bloodied chest was repeated again and again. The sound of the discharge was muffled and the jerk of Aaron's body was slow and Reid reached out to him with his mind –

_Please, Aaron, don't give up. Too many people love you. You are needed.  
The world would be a sadder place without you, Aaron. Please don't leave us........................._

-0-0-0-

Hotch felt the paddles on his chest, and realised too late that there was a choice, yes, but it wasn't his choice to make........

-0-0-0-

'I have found the phone!' yelped Garcia. 'The battery is giving out, but I know where it is now!'

She sent the co-ordinates to the team. Rossi leaned across her and checked it out on the map that was on her screen. The phone was in a dumpster in an alley way at the edge of the campus where Raymond lectured.

Dumpster diving for Emily Jordan and Morgan, but for once they didn't mind. They drove quickly to the alley way, and stared in horror at the row of dumpsters that awaited them.

'This is going to take some time.' Jordan said.

'Not if this works.' Emily said, punching out the number on her cell. 'If there's enough battery left, we should hear it ringing in a moment.'

Sure enough, the phone rang from the second dumpster. Emily ran to it, and with Morgan's help, she climbed inside.

'Keep ringing it, Morgan, and I'll find it quicker.'

It wasn't long before she stood up holding the phone between her thumb and forefinger.

'Let's get this fingerprinted then!' she exclaimed.

-0-0-0-

A man's body was found outside Denver in a woodland car park. He had been Tazered on the chest, and had died from a cardiac arrest. In his pocket was a cell phone.

'See it he had any calls from out mystery caller.' Dave said, handing the phone in an evidence bag to Garcia. She brought up the call log through the plastic bag.

'Yes, several calls from the number.' she said. 'One was just after you left his office, and two a couple of days before.'

'Presumably that was when the whole thing was set up.' Morgan said.

Emily came into the tiny room. She had showered after her scrabble through the dumpster and was smelling a bit sweeter now. 'I took the phone to Forensics.' she said. 'They have it on priority.'

'Take this down too, would you please?' Dave said, handing her the photographs and copy of the visitors' log that Raymond had handled. 'If the prints match, we've got him.'

-0-0-0-

Reid sat in the corner of the room through a mist of tears. He watched as they attempted to revive Hotch again and again. Then they stood away from the bed.

'Are we all agreed?' a voice said.

'No!' shouted Reid. 'Don't stop trying! He's been through too much for us to give up on him now!' He got out of the wheelchair and unsteadily walked to Hotch's bedside. He took his hands in his.

'Please, Aaron, come back to us. Please don't leave us. There is so much still to do. Please, don't go!' and Reid's words degenerated into tears as he leaned down and kissed the man he loved for the first time.


	14. The Love Factor

**STOP MOTION  
**Chapter 14  
The Love Factor

"_**No one ever seems to care  
Just as long as they were there  
Friends beside you  
Friends to guide you  
Friends beside you, everywhere" – Terry Reid (Friends)**_

Aaron felt the paddles on his chest. He felt the current run painfully through his heart. But he resisted coming back. He wanted to go where no one could hurt him again. He wanted to escape the torture and the anguish.

But then came the kiss.

Light and tender, he felt something rush through him...... Love?

Something stronger than death and freedom from pain.

He had forgotten love in his torment and agony, yet it was still there. The love he had forgotten was calling him home again…..

-0-0-0-

'Please try again.' Reid said, hanging onto the side of the bed for support. 'Please don't give up on him. Too many people love him........' His words were cut off by a sob. He didn't know how he was going to live without Hotch by his side.

The doctor stepped forwards. 'We'll try once more......... Charge three fifty........ Clear!'

-0-0-0-

When Aaron felt the paddles on his chest again, he submitted to the call, and allowed his body to respond. As his body jerked under the paddles, his heart began beating again, and he crawled painfully upwards to the calling. Filled with a new determination, Aaron chose life.

-0-0-0-

It was all Reid could do not to throw his arms around Aaron. He wanted to hold him close, give him the love he had bottled up inside. Instead he gazed down at the sleeping form, and wondered.

-0-0-0-

Dave was pleased. The prints were a match. Not that anyone thought that they wouldn't be; it was nice though to have the arrest warrant in his hand, climbing the stairs to Raymond's office.

_It would be better, though, if I didn't feel so damned ill!_

His vision was fogging and his concentration was going. He kept tight hold of the reason they were there – to arrest the man who had ordered the murder of eleven people, and possibly twelve if Aaron didn't make it.

Reaching the office, Dave opened the door and went straight in. Raymond jumped back from his secretary in surprise.

'Stanley Raymond, you are under arrest for the attempted murder of FBI Agent Aaron Hotchner.' Dave said. 'You do not have to......' his words trailed off as the pain radiating from his abdomen moved through his body like a sickening wave of agony.

He caught Morgan's eye. Morgan continued with the Miranda warning. He swung Raymond round and cuffed him behind his back. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Dave collapse to the floor.

-0-0-0-

Dave had an infection in his wound and was in a coma in the ICU in a bed next to Aaron. Strong antibiotics were being pumped into his system, but the doctors thought he had a fifty fifty chance of pulling through.

'We can't force our patients to remain here against their will.' the doctor said. 'It's not a prison.'

Reid sat in an E-Z Kleen chair by his side and prayed. Two people he cared very much about were seriously ill and praying was all he had left. A sudden movement from Aaron brought him back.

He stood and leaned over him. He was trying to pull at the cage with his bandaged hands. He couldn't speak or cry out as his jaws were wired and the tube was back in his throat, but the sounds he was making pointed to the terror that he was feeling.

'Aaron! Hotch, it's ok – you're safe!' Reid stroked his hair through the cage and tried to comfort him. Aaron's eyes snapped open and they stared at Reid unseeingly, registering total panic. He smashed his dangerously injured hands against the cage, trying to pull it off his face. Reid tried to pull his hands back, calling for help as he did so.

A nurse came in, and between them they pulled Aaron's hands back down and strapped his wrists to the bed. She checked his IV and shone a light into his eyes before checking Dave, then gong back to watch her monitors.

Reid looked down at Hotch, thinking of how afraid he must be, in restraints again. He stroked his thick dark hair and longed to kiss him again.

-0-0-0-

So it had been yet another trick. A Judas kiss of death and betrayal. He had tried to speak and his jaws wouldn't move. There was something in his throat and his head was clamped into some kind of device again. He panicked in fear and wished they would just kill him and leave him alone.

Now he was restrained.

He opened his eyes slowly, and someone was looking down at him.

_Reid? Spencer, is that you?_

He made a sound of anguish in his throat and Reid touched Aaron's face.

'You are safe now, Hotch. No one will hurt you now.' He leaned down and kissed him gently on the forehead. 'Welcome home, Hotch!'

He wanted to smile, but it hurt too much to move his face, but in his heart he laughed; the love he had felt was real, not a trick. People really did love him and want him back. He tried to lift his hands, and remembered that they were in restraints. Reid heard the sound of the straps against the metal bars of the bed.

'It's so that you don't injure your hands, Hotch. You were thrashing about and we were afraid you would hurt yourself.'

Hotch blinked slowly, understanding. He had so many questions to ask. Dave? Where was he? Was he dead? Why did his hands hurt? What was this on his face? But he was exhausted and all he could do was stare at Reid as his eyes gradually closed and he fell asleep.

-0-0-0-

Morgan had finished with Raymond. He was being charged with murdering the guy he killed with the Tazer, and attempted murder of an FBI Agent. Lester, now in police custody, was being charged with murder and attempted murder. Burrows was still in the hospital. But they had some for him to when he came out.

Raymond had just broken down when faced with the finger print evidence on the cell phone. It felt good having this supercilious creep beg for mercy. He was a weak man and Morgan despised him.

'You will get no mercy where you are going.' Morgan leaned forward on the table and hissed into Raymond's damp face. 'There's no death penalty here, but I can guarantee you will wish there was!'

He slammed his hand down on the table, making the man jump, and left the room with his hands clenched into tight fists. Emily, who had been watching through the mirror, joined him in the corridor.

'Coffee?' she suggested.

Morgan nodded, starting to unwind already. It was as much as he could do not to smash Raymond's head onto the table. He hated weak men.

They sat in silence and drank coffee. Then Emily said,

'What will you do if Hotch doesn't make it?'

'Quit. I couldn't work the team without him. He IS the team.'

'It would be between you and David to run things though.'

'I'm not ready, Em. Hotch told me I wasn't, and although it annoyed me at the time – I felt betrayed – he was right. I don't trust people enough to delegate. I'd quit. There's plenty of work out there for me; I could join the regular cops.'

'David's only been with us for a short while. The doctors have only given him a fifty fifty chance.'

'There's no way he would have stayed in hospital while Hotch was missing. The only reason Reid didn't come back is Dave ordered him not to.'

'Really? I didn't know that. Now it will be the devil's own job trying to get him out of the hospital.'

Morgan grinned. 'True enough. Let's get Jordan and Garcia and go join him there.'

-0-0-0-

Aaron was awake when they arrived at the hospital. He wanted to see Dave but he wasn't able to sit up yet.

'He's very ill.' the doctor told him. 'He refused to stay in hospital, and he got himself a severe infection. We are doing what we can, but most of it depends on the strength of his immune system.'

Aaron tried to turn his head. He was no longer in restraints, and the wires had been carefully removed from his jaws. The doctor slowly drew the tube from his dry sore throat.

Hotch he raised heavily bandaged hands up to the doctor.

'What's all this for?' he croaked.

'You have necrosis in your finger tips.' he said.

'Necrosis?'

'We have had to remove your little finger and the tips of the next two fingers of your left hand. I am sorry. We are hoping that your right hand will recover.'

'Remove?' Hotch repeated as the unwelcome information infiltrated. 'Let me see!'

'I am afraid we cannot unwrap your left hand yet. I will let you see your right hand though.'

The doctor bent forward and slowly unwrapped Aaron's right hand. He didn't know what he would find, and he braced himself for anything.

The tips were still black, but the necrosis hadn't spread, and the rest of Aaron's hand looked healthy.

'I think it looks good at the moment.' he said as Aaron held his hand in front of his face and stared at it as if it belonged to someone else.

'How did this happen?' Hotch said, a frown on his face.

'It was caused by you being held in the same position for so long – almost five days I believe, and with the bands tight around your arms, the blood just didn't get through. I am sorry.'

'Will I lose......? I mean, will you.......?'

'I think your right hand will be fine. The very tips of your fingers might need removing to save the rest, but your left hand was far worse. We will not know the full extent until tomorrow. I must warn you, you could lose your hand, or worse. But we have a brilliant plastic surgeon here, and modern prosthetics.....'

But Hotch wasn't listening any more.......... Lose his hand? Or worse? How could he do his job with a plastic arm? He had lost his family to this job, now when he needed it, it was deserting him.

Frightened tears coursed down his face and he didn't try to stop them. They wet his hair and his pillow as everything that had happened to him on the last few weeks suddenly hit him and the realisation of what was happening to him now finally hit home. He was finished as an FBI Agent. What the hell was there left for him? He remembered Haley saying his work was what he did, but she was wrong. His work defined him. It made him the man he was. Without it he was nothing.

The doctor said something about having a chat tomorrow when the bandages were off, and they would have a better prognosis, and he re wrapped Hotch's right hand and left.

Hotch was left alone.

'Please, not that. I need my work – it is my life!' he said to himself through the tears.

'Whatever happens,' Dave's voice said softly, 'your friends will not desert you.'

'Dave? You're awake!'

'Either that or we are sharing the same dream.'

'Dave, they've taken one of my fingers. I might lose my hand.'

'I know Aaron. But you might not – and your shooting hand is intact.' Dave tried to sit up, and fell back down with a groan. 'Oh god that hurts......'

'I remember you getting shot, Dave, I thought you were dead.'

'Ha! It would take more than that to get rid of me!' He paused for a moment, then he said, 'I can't come over to you, Aaron. Please don't give up. We got all the bad guys!'

He gave Hotch a brief run down on the case and how they had found Raymond. 'He was completely barking, that man. Thought he was above the law.' he gave a small laugh. 'I love getting guys like that!'

Hotch smiled, for a moment forgetting about his hands. 'Me too! I know that feeling.' he said. 'It feels good.'

-0-0-0-

When the rest of the team arrived, they collected Spencer from his room and found Aaron and Dave laughing about something. It was good to see. Garcia gently kissed Hotch and sat next to him.

'Great to have you back, Hotch....'

_Hotch?_

'We've missed you!'

He smiled a tiny smile at her. It was good to be missed. And he knew that with so much support, whatever happened to him now, he would survive it.

With love and friendship, he could survive anything.

-0-0-0-

**END**

**A/N I will probably write an epilogue for this story, just to let you know how the gorgeous Aaron Hotchner gets on!**


End file.
